


Fire In Your Eyes

by WesternStar



Category: Dragonheart (1996)
Genre: Angst, Conmen in Action, Draco and Bowen are Touch-Starved Fools, Draco/Bowen Romance, Dragon & Human Interactions, Dragon/Human, During Canon, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Guilt, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Minor Canonical Character(s), Mutual Pining, Not A Fix-It, Pet Names, Sharing Body Heat, Size Difference, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Love, Wounds & Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:46:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WesternStar/pseuds/WesternStar
Summary: (Rewritten, new and longer!)“It’s a gift from Kara – a lucky charm, she called it. Her father used to wear it as a headband during rebellions and she wanted me to take it,” the knight replied and watched his partner walk to a nearby tree with confusion. “Draco, what are you...?”He picked something from the ground and returned back to him, holding a small stem crowned with tiny blue flowers – each one had a distinctive yellow ring in the center. He slid the stem underneath the brown band on Bowen’s hand without crushing or creasing a single petal, despite how strong and big he was. If Bowen didn’t know Draco, he’d never believe he could be so careful and gentle with something as fragile as a flower.“Here. Your second lucky charm.”
Relationships: Bowen/Draco (Dragonheart), Bowen/Kara (Dragonheart)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! So, I've decided to write a Draco/Bowen fanfiction (shipname... Drowen?). They are the main romantic pairing - if it offends you, please, don't read this story at all. This fic contains fluff, smut and has no happy ending. I tried to stick to the canon as much as I could, therefore... You know how their story ends.  
> I sincerely hope you'll enjoy the story and, please, take note of the fact that English is my second language. Therefore, you can expect to see many mistakes in the text - I apologize for that.

Bowen gently fixed the stirrup of his steed’s saddle and patted the frightened animal, trying to calm it down. It was rearing in fear with wide eyes and its whinnies echoed through the forest. Bowen reached into his leather satchel, offered a beautiful shiny apple to the horse and, looking over his shoulder, checked on the sleeping dragon.

They’ve talked a lot last night – about their truce, mostly – and the knight didn’t even remember falling asleep. When he woke up, he was surprised that his scaly companion didn’t run off or slit his throat while he was dozing. It seemed that he, indeed, meant no harm to Bowen and for some reason, it flustered the man. 

This one wasn’t a specimen of his harmful kind, it seemed.

Tethering the horse to a nearby tree to ensure it wouldn’t run off, the knight turned to him and tried: “Dragon?”

Nothing.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. Not only strange but a heavy sleeper too.

“Dragon, wake up! We need to start training!” he raised his voice, clanking the hilt of his sword against his metal belt buckle.

“Oh, dear! Stop it, knight!” the dragon hissed, stretching his stiff neck, and sat up sleepily. The joints in his spine cracked as he did so, making low distinctive noises. The dragon’s deep voice reverberated through the clearing as he spoke: “This torturous sound is deadly for my sensitive hearing. Would you be so kind?”

Bowen grinned and unsheathed his sword, swinging it around in small circles. The dragon gave him a wary look. “I hope you’re not thinking of anything stupid, human. And if you do, I bid you, don’t try it. I’m rather looking forward to our, uh,” the dragon paused, in search of the right word, “partnership and I am in no mood to kill you.”

The knight only shook his head and carefully eyed his companion from the top of his head to his long swift tail. Yesterday was quite messy and Bowen had no time to appraise the dragon enough. 

Sure, he could see the dragon was larger, more muscled, and stronger than the others he slew. Cleverer too. Perhaps an opponent who Bowen couldn’t best under any circumstances and that thought was very unnerving. 

What Bowen missed to notice were his eyes. They were the color of amber and gold, deep and uncanny… He couldn’t stand looking into them for too long. The knight had to shift his gaze back to the dusty ground to avoid the dragon’s piercing orbs 

“Who shall start?” the dragon asked, curling up the scales on his tail to reveal the sharp blades which unfolded at once. He had to keep an eye on the knight. Heavens knew what he had in mind – a stab in the back could come at any time. 

Was he a fool for trusting the man? 

Well, most likely. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he got tricked by a fickle human, after all. 

But still. 

The slim chance of freedom, of no skulking in the shadows and crawling in the dark, was worth the risk. Besides, this man had something good within him and the dragon could see it even through the many layers of the knight’s stoic and annoyed expression.

“Should be you,” Bowen replied, quickly side-stepping as the dragon swung his tail close to his arm. He caught him unawares and, for a split second, the knight thought he was going to die. “Jesus Christ! Go easy on me, dammit!”

“Sorry,” the dragon smiled apologetically, scratching his elbow. “I thought you were prepared.”

* * *

For the next couple of hours, they danced around each other like a pair of idiots. Bowen would make a couple of sallies, the dragon would snap his jaws at him a few times… On and on, until they were able to perform a perfect but ridiculous and stupid imitation of a fight.

“Okay,” the knight nodded, short of breath and suddenly worried, “you can take me down now.”

The dragon quickly spun and pinned him to the ground faster than the man could react. Bowen kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, glaring above at the large creature, ready to use the weapon properly if needed. He didn’t want that though, starting to think that this charade could truly help him earn more money.

The dragon only snorted, letting the human go. He could hear how fast the knight’s heart beat, how strained his muscles were and he knew that the man was expecting a sudden attack. It wouldn’t come. 

But he had no right to blame the knight. 

Bowen stood up and brushed the dust off his black surcoat, catching his breath. He was tired and a little shaken due to the dragon’s force, but he wanted to earn some money right away, so he chose to ignore his own discomfort.

“Good,” Bowen said quietly. “Splendid, indeed. I guess this is enough. We can head to the nearest village. You’ll fly there first, make a mess, scare the living hell out of the people. But don’t kill nobody,” he emphasized.

The dragon growled. The knight looked at him as if he was expecting to see disappointment in his face rather than bitter anger. “I didn’t kill a dragonslayer who came to my home and tried to murder me. Do you think I’d hurt an innocent?”

“Okay, okay. I know,” Bowen tried to mollify his companion, raising his hands in defense. He didn’t expect the dragon to be so sensitive about it but perhaps he should have. After all, he was rather extraordinary. “I’m not trying to offend you. Just making sure that we’re clear.”

“Fine. I’ll make a mess, wait for you to come and get your money from the lord – or the peasants – and perform this silly fight with you. Then what? Do you want to do that river and arrow thing, or am I supposed to just lie on the ground and pretend to decompose after you ‘kill’ me?”

Bowen cackled at the joke and then quickly collected his wits after seeing the dragon’s surprised – but pleased – expression. The knight cleared his throat and composed himself, saying: “Well, if there’ll be a river deep enough for you to dive in and swim away unnoticed, then yes, we’ll do the river thing.”

“Oh, stars above,” the dragon grunted. It seemed that the knight thought he was an idiot. “That much is clear. But what if there’s no river? What do you...”

“Shut up and let me talk, if you want to know, smartass!” Bowen interrupted him, sliding his weapon back into its sheath, and pointed at himself. “If there’s no river, I’ll be the loser. Just grab me and carry me somewhere where the peasants won’t be able to spot us. All right?”

“Hmm, fine with me,” the dragon approved dryly, glad that he’d get to be the winner too sometimes. He was starting to have a feeling that maybe, perhaps this alignment wasn’t such a bad idea. The knight surely wasn’t a bad fellow, but they both needed time to learn to trust each other.

A quiet stomach rumble pulled him back into reality.

Bowen covered his face with his palm in embarrassment, stepping from one foot to the other.

“Hungry, huh? I can hunt something for us while we’ll be traveling. Of course, only if you want to,” the dragon offered kindly, leaning his head down to the man’s level. 

Bowen had to avoid his eyes again. And yet he had a strange inkling that his companion could see right through him. Almost as if he was able to read his thoughts – but that was impossible, the man knew. Nobody could do that.

“T-that,” the knight stuttered, making his way to his panicking horse, “would be… fine, I suppose.”

“Well, then... Off we go.”

* * *

A large shadow fell over the yellow field of wheat, which was waving in the sudden strong wind. Peasants, scared for their lives, were no longer cutting the golden stalks. Throwing their tools away, they darted through the corn and wheat in search of safety. As a loud, terrifying roar filled the air, they screamed in terror, gathering in front of the large house on a nearby hill.

There they stood, desperately knocking on the door of their lord’s mansion, afraid that the dragon will burn down their harvest. Or worse – them. They watched him swoop in the air dangerously, circling their fields and village like an overgrown bird of prey.

The door creaked all of a sudden, and a fancy looking man stepped outside of his sumptuous home. 

“What on Earth is going on, you vagabonds? Can’t a lord rest, for all that is holy?” he muttered, irritated. 

It was obvious that he was just enjoying a nap, avoiding the heat – and work – of the day. His dark hair was ruffled, eyes red, half-closed and the green robe he wore was awfully creased.

The people barely noticed him at first, his sharp cry, however, made them turn around and face him.

“A dragon!” he shrieked, yelping and nervously clawing at the hem of his ridiculously colorful droopy vest. “There’s a goddamn dragon flying around my land!” He grabbed a random peasant girl by the shoulders, shaking her. “Did he destroy something? O-or kill someone?”

“No, not yet,” the largest bear of a peasant replied angrily, crossing his arms on his broad chest. “But he could’ve. And he most definitely will if you won’t send some of your precious warrior-knights to kill him, Renard!”

“W-well, they’re all gone. Off with the king, hunting some stupid rebels and a wench that escaped his keep,” the lord whined, shaking like a leaf in autumn, and glared at the dragon. 

Renard wasn’t sure his knights would defend his property even if they were by his side. After all, the intruder was a very, very large and scary one. His warriors would probably not be able to kill him anyway. 

What a bloody stalemate! 

What was he supposed to do? 

Fight the brute himself?

“Why are your soldiers doing someone else’s business?” the big peasant asked.

“Because king Einon’s business is my business as well!” Renard tried to defend himself, taking pride in his service for the ruler. Though right now, in all honesty, he’d rather have his soldiers than Einon’s gratitude.

“But you’ve got to do something, please!” an older woman implored, holding her son close to her chest. The little boy buried his face into the harsh material of her dirty, torn tunic. “How are we supposed to protect our children from such a humongous menace without the help of a…”

“A dragonslayer?” a new raspy voice came from the side. It belonged to a man sitting atop a dark bay horse. He wore a chainmail shirt under his black surcoat and a shield made of leather with attached claw trophies on his back. He had blond hair, blue eyes, an unkempt beard, and looked charming overall, handsome even. “You just got lucky there, my friends. Because I am a dragonslayer. A good one at that. And I can take that beast down in five minutes, guaranteed!”

“Oh, mighty knight! How generous and valiant of you!” Renard praised him and heaved a long relieved sigh. 

He was saved! 

The lord rushed to the newcomer, grasped his knee, and gave him a rather nervous grin. “I hope you are as good as you claim! Because otherwise…” Renard looked at the angry and frightened group of peasants, then back at the stranger. “I might end up dead. And it won’t be the dragon’s doing.”

“Don’t worry, pal,” the knight chuckled, patting his shoulder with more force than necessary to reassure the fop. “I’ve got this. But, as you must know by now, dear lord, nobody works for free. And I’m not willing to kill this extraordinary mountain of a dragon without getting paid first!”

“First?” the lord frowned, glaring at the man suspiciously, and flailed his arms around. Sure, he had quite the equipment stored on his steed but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a fraud. “I don’t want my fields burned and my pockets empty if he eats you. How can I trust you?”

“Isn’t my shield enough?” the blond-haired man said with a smile, tapping on the largest claw in the middle to reassure him. 

The lord gulped. Hard. 

And Bowen saw the opportunity to play him like a fiddle. 

“See how big he is?” Bowen pointed at the dragon in the sky, pretending to be amazed. “He could easily destroy your beautiful house with one swing of his tail and… Oh, look!”

Bowen quickly and discreetly signaled his partner to light something up. Even from afar, he could see the dragon shake his head disapprovingly. But he did as the knight asked and, flying lower, he ignited a useless tiny shed near the cornfield.

The knight glanced at the petrified fop, pleased that the scare worked, and leaned down to him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Quickly, good man! Two bags of gold before he burns more of your property!”

Renard frantically untied the large purse from his belt with shaky hands and tossed it to the knight. “There should be enough to make up for two bags. And now, please, kill him!”

Bowen put the sack into his satchel. “With great pleasure, my lord!” he bowed and spurred his horse down the hill.

* * *

“Knight.”

“Dragon, don’t you even start,” Bowen sighed, performing a perfectly inaccurate sally, while the blade of his partner’s tail caught his sword. The shriek of metal made them both wince.

“Didn’t we agree that there won’t be any real damage?” the dragon asked with a sorrowful lilt in his voice, snapping his jaws right into the man’s face. Bowen swiftly avoided them and a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs” echoed down into the valley.

The peasants were perched up on the hill, standing on their tiptoes and marveling at the knight’s and the dragon’s pathetic show. 

The dragon was hurt by their attitude. He’s never heard anyone cheer for his death before. 

His race used to be so mighty, glorious, and worshiped for its wisdom. Now, it was almost extinct because of man’s insatiable greed and hatred. 

To those people on the hill, he was no more than a huge terrorizing critter that needed to be put down as soon as possible.

“Come on, it was the easiest way to convince the fancy fop to pay me. Besides, that little shed you set aflame wasn’t even that important to them, I bet.”

“I guess you’re right. After all, it’s nothing compared to the fact that now the lord won’t give the peasants their rightfully earned salary, because it’s in your pocket,” he commented dryly, pinning the man to the ground. 

He had enough of this already and they barely even started conning. But the world was what it was. 

He couldn’t come up with some heroic idea, the two of them saving poor people or fighting against the tax-collecting knights. Einon would notice, he’d care.

They couldn’t openly provoke him. 

Well, they _could_. But… 

He didn’t want the knight killed or himself hidden in a moist, moldy cave again if something would go wrong.

“Will you kill me already?” Bowen mouthed and let out a loud fake yell of pain, pulling the dragon away from his musing.

The dragon sighed, growled, and squeezed the man a little, gently grabbing his frail body. Spreading his magnificent wings, he took off and grasped Bowen’s agitated horse as well. He could still hear the surprised and scared howls of the peasants as he was soaring.

The knight wriggled in his fist, sticking his head through the gap between his thumb and forefinger. Not for long though. As Bowen looked down on the tiny trees and long green plains beneath them, his face went pale. Gagging a little, he curled back into the dragon’s soft palm.

“Are you okay there, knight?”

“No! God, we’re so high! I’m sick,” he murmured, swallowing the building need to puke. “I shouldn’t have looked down. That was a very bad idea.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it after a while. I know how you feel, trust me. After all, I had to learn how to fly once upon a time too – it was long ago, though. Would you, uh, like me to land?”

“Yes, please,” Bowen replied, surprised that the dragon could hear his quiet voice through the howling of the wind and the rush of air around them.

Immediately, he could sense that the dragon started descending.

Bowen’s horse was kicking up a hell of a fuss and as soon as its hooves touched the ground, it bolted away, running off into the thick forest. Bowen was going to have a hard time finding it if it wouldn’t respond to his whistling. It wasn’t bothering him at the moment, though.

When the dragon unfolded his hand, the man rolled out onto all four, breathing heavily. His skin was pale like virgin cotton, his limbs were shaking. All of a sudden, the man jolted forward, puking.

“Oh,” the dragon frowned in empathy, offering his wing to Bowen. “Rough ride, huh?”

The knight nodded his thanks, awkwardly taking the wing, and slowly stood up. “I’m sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. Bowen didn’t feel comfortable with showing his weaknesses to his companion yet. He guessed it was due to his instinct of suspicion when it came to dragons. 

“I don’t want to be your enemy, knight,” the dragon said softly as if he could sense what was going on in the knight’s mind. “Not at all. And I don’t want you to be my enemy either.”

“We’re not enemies,” Bowen stated, even though he wasn’t entirely sure about that. 

Then he remembered how concerned the dragon was back in the village. He wanted to suggest that they should part ways right now if he was intending to constantly prick Bowen’s conscience. 

But he couldn’t. 

He needed the dragon to help him get by and make a living. 

So the knight decided to make things clear. “Does what we just did bother you? Conning those people, I mean.”

“No.”

A lie. 

The dragon sighed. 

Yes. It did bother him. 

Everything bothered him.

The fact that the poor people had to suffer because he was afraid to die and face justice. That all he was doing right now was making their lives even worse. That instead of showing Bowen the truth, he was only feeding his disillusion. 

The dragon knew he should do something about it. 

And soon. 

He was avoiding it for too long.

Yet he wasn’t ready. 

The knight wasn’t ready and neither were the people.

“Are we done for today?” he asked quietly, a heavy sigh escaping from the thin gap between his lips.

“Yeah. I don’t think my stomach can handle horse riding at this point so… I guess,” the knight looked around, examining the small meadow surrounded by trees, “we can stay here for the night and return to your waterfall later.”

* * *

The night was really cold. Almost too cold for May. The knight was huddled up in his blanket, but even that didn’t stop the chilly breeze from blowing through his clothes. He shifted closer to the bonfire, back turned to the flames, and hoped it would warm him up.

The dragon shifted, noticing that his companion was shivering and gasping, and leaned down to him over the fire. The flames danced along his copper scales, not harming him at all. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

Bowen turned to him, scowling, and reached under the blanket to grab his swo… To scratch his thigh, yes. There were no doubts – the movement of the blanket was saying it all.

“You’ve been shaking,” the dragon tried to explain his behavior, “I wanted to, uh, check if you’re okay.”

The knight bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing.

“I could…” He considered whether he should offer his side to the man for a moment and decided that he was going to risk it. “You can, uh, lean against me,” the dragon said with an unsure smile, “if you want to.”

“Just go to sleep, dragon,” the knight muttered, letting his back drop down to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

_Lose your soul? How does someone lose their soul?_ the knight mused, rubbing a small stone against the blade of his sword. He’s been trying to light the firewood for about half an hour now, unsuccessfully. Perhaps because he wasn’t focusing on his task at all. 

_What did you do, dragon?_

“I can… I really can.”

Bowen jolted in surprise and quickly glanced at his companion, who lay on the ground in front of him. He left a couple of minutes ago, saying that he needed to get a drink, and the knight didn’t hear him return. Befuddled, he forgot to respond “no, thanks, I can handle this” and tried to spark a flame once more.

Instead of that, hotness sprang into his face out of nowhere and he backed off. Realizing that the dragon was breathing fire right at the lamb, he stared at him in awe. The meat was perfectly roasted in mere seconds. When he noticed Bowen’s confusion, he stopped and grinned.

“I’m sorry, Bowen. I hope you like it well-done.”

The knight chuckled, forgetting his thoughts. He realized that this was probably the first time that the dragon called him by his name. 

“Sure,” he nodded and smiled, licking his lips in hunger. “But it’s too much meat for me. So, are you going to eat it too?” When his companion nodded, he decided to question it further. “You don’t mind that it’s cooked?”

The dragon snorted, raising one of his scaly eyebrows. “I don’t eat it raw, dear boy. In fact, I find it disgusting,” he explained, slightly offended. 

“Interesting,” the knight commented, pulling a small knife from his pocket, and cut a nice big chunk of meat for himself. The mutton was crispy and juicy – he had to wipe his chin into his sleeve when he took the first bite, grease streaming from his mouth. 

Laying down, he began eating roman-style. He propped his upper body on one of his elbows, watching the dragon. And yet again, his companion surprised him.

The dragon took the roasting stick and gently pulled the meat off with his sharp teeth, picking the bones clean at once. Bowen almost choked. Shocked, he pointed at the cluster of bones between the dragon’s forearms and asked with a surprised laugh: “What is this sorcery?”

The dragon sighed woefully, smiting the small hoard, and rested his head in his palm. “See, knight? You people know nothing about my kind yet you’ve slain my brethren. And it saddens me. But… Well, I don’t even know why I’m… Ah, never mind! Back to your question. It’s a _dragon thing_ , I guess.”

Bowen felt a wave of empathy and sorrow wash over him. He felt _sorry_ for his companion. The knight shook his head in disbelief and grunted, thinking that he should not regret killing all those dragons. His eyes darted to his shield – to the dragon claws, and he frowned.

No. 

He couldn’t pity the dragons, because that would mean he’s forgiven the Great One in the mountain. And that was something he would never do. That dragon was pure evil if he was able to twist Einon’s kindness into fierce cruelty.

Bowen stood up, walked over to the shield and tossed it aside roughly, taking the blanket that lay beneath it in his calloused hands. 

The dragon’s gaze fell upon the man’s trophies too. Only what mirrored in his eyes wasn’t hatred, but pain and sadness. “You must’ve hated us very much,” he sighed.

“I hated one of you,” Bowen remarked quietly with a strange lilt in his voice, unfolding the blanket and settling down for sleep. “These I killed because I wanted to kill him. But I never found him. And I never will. If you’re the last, he must be dead.”

“Ah, yes. Tell me,” the dragon leaned closer, slowly tapping the ground with the tip of his tail, “what was he like? This, uhm, dragon that you hated?”

Bowen’s eyes met the dragon’s and, for the first time, he was able to stand looking into their amber glitter. The knight never enjoyed talking about it – it reminded him that the boy he used to love was now a monster. And it wasn’t even his fault.

“He only had half a heart. But even that was enough to pollute an innocent boy,” he replied bitterly, looking down the cliff into the dark nothingness as ache squeezed his chest.

The dragon’s eyes went wide and he rose hotly, forgetting himself. “Einon was no innocent! He polluted the heart!” he growled angrily, ready to defend himself.

Bowen jumped to his feet. “How do you know that?” he demanded suspiciously, throwing the blanket away, and stood up, facing the enraged dragon. “How do you know that, dragon?”

The dragon scratched his neck nervously, trying to come up with a decent lie to cover what he foolishly revealed. 

“We all dragons know that story,” he answered, gesticulating as he spoke. “What was to be their hope became their doom. A spoiled, ungrateful child was given a great gift and destroyed it!”

“No!” Bowen protested, but the dragon could sense uncertainty in his otherwise steady voice. “I knew Einon! I was his teacher. I taught him the ways of honor. Of right…”

“Then he betrayed you,” the dragon stated harshly and leaned down to the man’s level, “just as he betrayed the dragon whose heart he broke.”

“That’s a lie, dragon!” Bowen snapped.

“Stop calling me 'dragon'! I have a name!” he growled testily. The anger and frustration that were bubbling within him for a long time finally exploded. He wasn’t very proud of it, knowing that Bowen was just confused. Hurt… And he knew those feelings well. 

“Oh, what is it?” the man asked, startling the dragon.

It seemed that Bowen wasn’t interested in stirring Einon further nor arguing again.

The fight was over. Thankfully.

“Ha!” he scoffed quietly, voice softening, barely more than a whisper. “You couldn’t possibly pronounce it in your tongue.”

“Try me.”

“It’s...”

The sudden pain in his shoulder made the world go blurry in front of the dragon’s eyes. It was a sharp strike that went through the half of his heart, shaking his core, and he knew immediately that the ache was coming from Einon.

As he reached for his glowing arm, his body hit the hard rocky ground. Even with his eyes tightly shut and through the growl that emitted from his chest, he could hear the knight gasp and make his way towards him.

Bowen, frightened and startled, stared at the bright red light surrounding the dragon’s arm. 

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” the knight asked, genuinely concerned.

“It's my shoulder,” the dragon replied through gritted teeth and slowly lifted his head from the ground, shifting into a more comfortable lying position.

Bowen warily reached for the wound, wanting to examine it, and asked: “Do you mind?”

The dragon shook his head and offered his shoulder to Bowen. The man’s fingers were cool and slightly soothed the pain as they rested on his arm. Without thinking, he leaned into the knight’s touch. 

Their eyes met.  
Something they couldn't quite put passed between them as they shared a look.

“I’m gonna get you something cold to ease the pain,” the knight muttered and slowly walked over to his bedroll, grabbed the black cloak which often served him as a pillow, and dipped it into a bucket filled with water. 

The fabric absorbed the liquid quickly, growing saggy, and left the bucket dry. He’d have to refill it from the nearby creek later.

His stallion whinnied in dissatisfaction, bowing its head to examine the dried source of water. “Don’t worry, boy. I’ll get you some soon,” he cooed, patting the horse’s nose, and returned to his wincing companion.

He shifted, Bowen noticed. 

The dragon was resting his head on the back of his forearm, still frowning, with his body curled almost into a circle. He let the man approach him without opening his eyes, now sure that the knight meant no harm. He was a caring lad, that much was clear.

Bowen ever so gently covered the glowing scales with the moist cloth. It settled on his companion’s shoulder with a sizzling hiss as the heat of the wound came in touch with the soaked cloak.

“Oh, dear,” the dragon sighed softly, finally opening his eyes. The pain faded away immediately, leaving him weary, relieved, and very thankful. Without the man’s help, he’d probably suffer for a few long hours. 

He looked at the knight gratefully, a little embarrassed. If only Bowen knew that he had just served the one who he had sworn to kill all those years ago… 

“Thank you. It’s passed now,” the dragon whispered and took a deep breath, turning to the man.

“What was it?”

“An all complaint that acts up now and again,” he replied. It wasn’t really a lie. 

But, of course, he couldn’t explain what happened. 

Not yet.

The dragon got carried away for a moment, thinking about how the king hurt his arm. Or rather _who_ did. The pain was clear and deep as it struck him through the heart-bond, almost as if someone stabbed Einon with a knife or a sword. Knowing that the evil king was suffering too made him feel at least a little better.

“I’m sorry if anything I said… If I upset you,” Bowen uttered, putting his hands on his hips. His tone was full of honest concern. 

The dragon didn’t want him to think that he was the one who caused the sudden pain attack. “It wasn’t you. Not you,” he reassured him, slightly shifting to his side, and let his eyelids fall shut once more. He heard the knight crouch beside his thigh and he smiled, slipping into slumber.

* * *

When he woke up, it was still dark – probably very early in the morning. As he was about to lift his wing, he noticed the weight pressed against his flank. He tilted his head to the left and his eyebrows shot up.

The knight was leaning onto him, eyes fluttering. His head was slowly slumping down and once Bowen’s chin touched his chest, the knight jerked awake. He turned and gently pulled the – now completely dry – cloak off of the dragon’s shoulder, checking if the red glow finally faded away.

“I’m fine. You can go to sleep,” the dragon muttered softly, smiling at the knight who was obviously surprised to see him awake.

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Hmm, have you been watching over me all night?” he asked kindly.

“I… Uh… I’ve been up thinking,” Bowen replied coyly, too embarrassed to admit that he’s been, indeed, watching over his companion. “Mostly about what to call you. I think I found you a name.”

The dragon smiled at the sudden childish enthusiasm in Bowen’s voice. “You say it as though you reached up and plucked it from the sky.”

The knight snorted, beaming. “I did. Up there,” he said and stood up, pointing at the large constellation in the middle of the sky. It was shining brightly against the night’s dark curtain. “Do you see that cluster of stars there?”

The dragon hummed in agreement as he gazed up longingly. “I know those stars very well.”

“And do you see the shape that they make?”

“Uh-huh. A dragon.”

“They call it Draco. It means ‘dragon’ in the scholar’s speech,” the knight suggested shyly, toying with the tip of the blanket that he’d wrapped around himself earlier.

“So instead of calling me dragon in your tongue, you’ll call me dragon in some other tongue,” he chuckled.

“You’re right. It’s silly,” the man sighed, taking a step towards the bedroll on the opposite side of the campfire. But the dragon stopped him with his tail, holding it to the man’s chest, and gently pulled him back. 

He didn’t want the knight to think that he was mocking his offer.

“No,” he protested gently. “No, I would be honored to be named after those stars. I… truly would. Thank you, Bowen. Thank you for my name. Draco.”

“You whisper it as though it were a prayer,” the knight commented, sitting back down, and basked in the warmth of Draco’s body. 

“Perhaps it’s an answer to one,” the dragon replied, confusing the man yet again, and sighed. 

Those stars, the heaven was out of his reach. 

He damned his soul a long time ago. The day he shared his heart with the tyrant king. 

He’d never shine among his brethren. 

But like this… At least Bowen would look up at the constellation and remember him once he’s gone. Hopefully.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” Draco replied, touched by Bowen’s genuine interest, and heaved a long, heavy sigh. “I just… Ah. We’re a pair of fools. And this fast-moving world doesn’t want us anymore.”

“Well, at least we won’t be lonely,” the knight grinned, tilting his head backward, and huffed. His eyelids were getting heavy, slumbers overtaking his mind. The dragon’s strangely comforting presence wasn’t helping him stay conscious at all.

“Indeed not,” Draco chuckled, averting his gaze from the glittering stars. A loud snore pierced the air and he laughed once more. Tucking the blanket under the sleeping man’s jaw to ensure he’d stay warm at night, he whispered: “Good night, Bowen.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Into the mouth of death he strode.”

“Don’t.”

“Into the gringy gloom.”

“Please.”

“Into the pit of fear unknown.”

“Stars above, Bowen, please,” the dragon implored, pressing the tip of his wing against the man’s mouth. “Do not make me suffer through the monk’s horrendous poetry. Continue only if you desire me to end up just as deceased as those verses are.”

Bowen laughed, gently pushing Draco’s wing away, and spurred his horse into a slow trot. “And there was me thinking that you like art – I mean, you sure sing a lot,” he teased playfully, enjoying that his companion was playing this silly game with him. 

“This poetry is not art, dear boy. It’s torture,” Draco wailed, emphasizing his words with a pained expression. “If the monk decides to stick to it, he’s going to get lynched by other minstrels sooner than he finishes those scripts of his… Ah, I sure hope we won’t run into him again.”

“Ha!”

“And this is where the fun ends. Have you got any idea what it feels like when someone stabs an inked quill into your…” Before Bowen could gain knowledge of where, the dragon suddenly stopped talking, staring forward, and didn’t blink once.

Draco saw a large black cloud of smoke, rising from somewhere behind the treeline. The eastern wind carried the smell of death, fire, and blood along with screams of pain and terror, but no clinking of swords. That could mean only one thing. It was no fight – it was a butchery of helpless people. 

“Don’t follow me,” he bade, spreading his wings.

“What?! Where are you going?”

“I have to go take a look at what’s going on back there. I’m not willing to sit around while Einon’s minions slay the innocent,” he replied, once more repeating: “Do not follow me.”

“You’ll get killed!” the knight protested firmly, reaching for the dragon’s elbow. His partner glanced down at him. And right away Bowen knew that he wasn’t going to back down. 

Yet he tried to convince Draco. “Please, don’t go.”

The dragon sighed and softly said: “I’m sorry. I have to.”

Bowen watched him fly away and cursed under his breath. He was about to do the most stupid thing he possibly could in this situation. 

If anyone saw him and Draco fight side by side, their conning career could be over in days – people talk a lot, after all. And their alignment would be quite the topic to bring up in a boring conversation. 

Yet Bowen found himself spurring his stallion after the dragon.

Not because he was the man’s livelihood, but… 

Because he cared about Draco. 

* * *

Draco growled.

A group of armed knights, who wore Einon’s emblem on their surcoats, was mercilessly killing dozens of peasants. The reason was obvious – they started revolting when the blackmailing warriors came to collect the taxes and they weren’t too happy about it.

Not only did they slay the men who were trying to hold them off but the ground was stained with the blood of women and children too. Their bodies were lying in the dust, still twisted in pain that they’ve been through in their last moments.

The dragon sighed. 

This was his fault. 

All those lives were taken by the king’s order and thus by him. Guilt filled his entire being along with pure throbbing rage. 

He couldn’t bring back the dead, but he sure could do his best to protect those alive.

Draco landed behind the knights, ignoring the peasants who surely thought that another catastrophe was about to down on them. 

Swinging his tail, he loosened the blades in its tip and fiercely cut the four men – who were pushing the defending villagers back – in half. As he breathed fire on the remaining warriors whose attention was all his now, turning around, he noticed a suspicious movement in the corner of his eye. Spinning, he was ready to put a quick end to the soldier…

But he was dead already. A long, sharp blade was coming out of his chest and as it slipped out and his body sagged down, he saw Bowen. 

Draco frowned and snorted, saying: “What did I tell you about-”

A commotion somewhere in front of them stopped the upcoming argument. 

They both eyed the plain for its source and discovered that one of the knights was holding a woman against a tree and another one had a young boy pinned to the ground. Looking at each other, they immediately rushed to save them.

* * *

“Squirm all you want, deary,” the bigger knight growled, untying the laces of the woman’s corset. He was grinning as he worked her skirt up, making her yelp and weep louder.

“Mamma!” the little boy cried in pain, caused by the boot pressed against his chest, and in pure frustration. Large tears were sliding down his puffed, red cheeks when a rough hand slapped his face.

“Shut the hell up!” the other man ordered in annoyance, kicking his partner in the shin. “Will you hurry? We ain’t got all day! The king ordered we have to be back in the castle before sunset! And I want to get some from that pretty pet of yours as well!”

“You know what, Marion? Go to hell! I can take as long as I want!”

Marion was about to snap something offensive at the other knight when the kid stopped wriggling beneath his foot. Turning his attention to the boy, he saw that the child lay calm. He was staring behind him almost as if he was mesmerized by something astoundingly beautiful. And before Marion managed to turn, someone knocked him to the ground.

A light-haired newcomer punched him hard and held him by the throat so tightly that he started gasping for breath. Choking, he reached for the dagger hidden in the pocket of his trousers. 

But he froze and his lips parted as he saw the large dragon body above him and the knight.

Bowen grabbed the shiny steel in the man’s hand and swiftly tore it away from him. With a glare, he held the sharp blade to the man’s trembling neck. 

“Holding a boy while your buddy rapes his mother? You pair of sick bastards!” he hissed, considering whether he should sink the dagger into the man’s neck right away or not.

“Get lost!”

Bowen looked up at Draco who roughly let go of the knight in his fist. With a heavy thud, the brute fell to the ground and quickly crawled away into the forest. The dragon stretched his arm and helped the frightened, puzzled woman to her feet. 

She was so dumbstruck that she seemed to forget that he was a dragon in the first place and didn’t freak out. 

When Draco’s amber eyes met Bowen’s stormy ones, he muttered: “Bowen, the kid’s seen enough blood today.”

The knight furrowed his eyebrows. There was so much wisdom and mercy in the dragon's face that he dared not to oppose him. 

Seeking the boy, he found him curled into the thick folds of his mother's skirt. 

Yes. 

This bastard beneath him deserved to die. But as Draco put it, the young boy didn’t deserve to see it. So Bowen took a firm hold of his wrath and a deep breath, releasing the man. 

Instead of gratefulness, he was rewarded with a painful kiss of his own pocket knife as it’s sharp tip scratched his side. 

He grunted as the warrior kneed him in the groin and freed himself, ready to pierce Bowen’s heart with a final blow.

But as he was swinging his arm towards the blond man’s chest, Draco’s calf came between them, saving the knight from certain death. 

The blade bore deep into his scales and flesh and as he thrust the man away with his tail, the weapon left an ugly groove in the dragon’s leg. The brute hit the trunk of a nearby tree with a loud, sickening crack, and slipped into unconsciousness.

Bowen braced himself against the dragon and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to get himself together from the shock. He would’ve died if it wasn’t for Draco’s fast reflexes and willingness to protect him. 

He was about to say thank you when the woman’s arms enveloped his torso. He gently patted her back, still shaking like a leaf in autumn. She let go of him after a while and backed off, holding her son’s small hand.

Draco stepped beside Bowen, quickly examining whether the man’s been hurt, eyes frantically running up and down his body. The thin scratch on the man’s side was barely visible, yet the smell of the knight’s blood filled his lungs. 

He hummed, wanting to take a closer look at it.

“H-how can I thank you?” the woman asked with tears in her eyes and brushed a lock of her messy brown hair behind her ear. “F-for saving me and my child from a fate worse than death?”

Bowen cleared his throat and smiled at her. “Just... Just make sure that everybody in your village keeps quiet about what just happened. That would help our current situation.”

“Of course! Of course!” she nodded fiercely, sliding her hand soothingly down her son’s bruised cheek.

* * *

After returning to their camp on the cliff, Bowen took his armor and shirt off and covered the long, but not very deep scratch on his ribs with a greasy salve. It stung, but not more than the thought of Einon sending his troops to kill harmless peasants.

Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, Bowen gathered almost half of the balm onto his fingers, walked over to the dragon’s thigh, and carefully started coating the rather deep wound. The dragon’s flesh was dark due to the dried blood which covered it.

Bowen blamed himself for Draco’s pain. After all, if he’d be more careful, neither of them would get hurt. 

“What?” the knight asked when he heard Draco chuckle.

“Oh, it’s just...” The dragon smiled at him kindly. Lovingly even. And Bowen repeated his gesture, hoping that he’d understand the sentiment. “You always tend to my wounds.”

“You’ve saved my life today,” the knight whispered, eyeing the red glow which was emerging from beneath the dragon’s shiny copper scales. “This is the least I can do.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t do it better myself.”

“Does it hurt too badly?”

“No,” he replied softly, touched. Draco felt a pleasant but nostalgic warmth pool deep in the pit of his chest as his eyes met the knight’s own. He’s grown too fond of Bowen and his care, he knew. 

Leaning to the man’s level, Draco stretched his arm towards him as an invitation. The knight stood still, not knowing what to do, but he didn’t back off, which was a good sign, the dragon guessed. “Maybe I can help you. If you won’t mind…”

The knight raised his hands up and suddenly felt a rush of hotness on his side. Draco gently touched his palm to the scratch, smiling reassuringly at Bowen. The man huffed in surprise and watched the wound close and heal slowly. 

“Wow, is that… Another dragon thing?” he asked and closed his eyes, enjoying the fading of the pain but more so his friend’s touch.

It’s been so long since anyone touched him so tenderly, without any intention to hurt him. 

Bowen couldn’t help himself and leaned into the dragon’s hand as he was slowly removing it once the scratch was fully healed. Draco stopped moving to let the human rest against the pads of his fingers. They were softer than Bowen thought.

For a moment, the knight wished to be touched more and he blushed at the thought, opening his eyes. The dragon’s face was so close to his own that his exhales were ruffling Bowen’s already messy hair. 

He wanted to reach for Draco. 

But he didn’t. 

Those feelings were… strange. And he most definitely shouldn’t have felt so desperate for his friend. But at the same time, all of that seemed perfectly right to him.

Snorting in frustration, he stepped aside.

“Thank you, Draco,” he whispered and bit his lip. “Let’s not go to another village tomorrow.”

The dragon was puzzled by his suggestion. Was the knight considering to end his conning career now that he’s seen what Einon’s been causing to the poor people? Or… “Why?”

The knight gesticulated towards his leg. “You’re hurt. And if you can’t heal yourself the same way you healed me (and I suppose you don’t), then I’m not letting you walk around with that on your thigh. You could get an infection. Or rip it more open,” Bowen explained.

So the knight didn’t come around completely yet.

“But I can…”

“But nothing, Draco. You need to rest.”


	4. Chapter 4

Bowen’s eyes fluttered open as soon as the first sun-ray gently landed on top of his eyelids. His blue orbs immediately transfixed on the dozing dragon, who was sleeping in front of him.

The light glittered on his shiny copper-gold scales and danced along every single inch of his large, burly form. He truly looked glorious, but that wasn’t the main reason why the knight couldn’t stop gazing at him.

Bowen’s limbs were trembling. His entire body was shivering and goosebumps ran up and down his spine each time the cool spring breeze caressed his back. The cliff they were camping on was particularly windy, unprotected by the forest, and the sun wasn’t strong enough to warm him up yet.

He glanced at the campfire, but it was no longer burning. In the circle of small stones lay only a few black, shattered logs, covered in ash. White clouds of smoke were rising from them, fading once they reached the tree line.

He didn’t want to get up and force his way through the bushes in the forest to gather wood for the fire.

He hummed.

His friend was just a couple of steps away and he was very, _very_ warm. After a while, he stretched himself. His joints cracked as he stood up and slowly, timidly approached the sleeping dragon, letting his blanket slide to the ground. He stepped over Draco’s tail and ended up in the space between his shoulder and the curve of his neck.

“Draco?” he tried, voice quiet and soft. “Do you mind?”

The dragon shook his head, still half asleep, and shifted into a slightly more comfortable position. It also allowed better access to the human.

Bowen let his body slide down his friend’s forearm until his buttocks landed on the ground. Then he gathered some more courage and placed his palms onto the dragon’s wide chest. He pressed his face and torso into him and his entire being was immediately suffused in comforting warmth.

The knight took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of fire, forest, and the dragon’s unique smell. He couldn’t describe it very well, but it was fresh and soft. Almost mesmerizing, like pines.

He let himself sink deeper into Draco’s solid body, enjoying his closeness and how pleasantly protected he felt.

With a purr, the dragon pressed him even closer and caressed his back lightly, testing the waters.

Bowen sighed in approval. Lord, it’s been years since he’s cuddled anyone and he forgot just how pleasant it was. It seemed that his friend was thinking the same as he turned his head only to rest his chin against the man’s temple.

Bowen was so relaxed that one of his arms slid down into Draco’s palm and the dragon closed his fingers over it, letting out a deep chuckle. The sound rumbled through his chest, making the knight bounce a little.

“Your hand is so tiny,” he commented quietly, voice rather rough from the night rest.

The man wriggled, unwillingly pulling his face away from the dragon’s body, and looked over his shoulder. Blushing, he realized that his hand was, indeed, tiny – at least compared to his friend’s.

Bowen dug his fingers into the dragon’s large soft palm and… Hotness rose to his cheeks once more. They were holding hands, huddled together. And not only was he okay with it. He was absolutely relishing in it.

“And your eyes,” the dragon continued after clearing his throat and tilted his head to get a better look at the knight. He could see how crimson Bowen’s face turned. Draco wasn’t sure whether flattering him would make him feel less or more embarrassed.

“Are they tiny too?”

“No!” Draco laughed, still gazing into those deep pools of blue. Blue like a stormy sea. The dragon was worried that sooner or later he might drown in them. “They’re… beautiful. Truly.”

“Nobody’s, uh, told me that before,” the knight muttered, not sure what to make of the compliment. But he’d lie if he would say that it didn’t please him.

“Really?” The dragon sounded genuinely surprised.

“Nah. I’ve heard about shoulders and arms but… Never… N-never anything about my eyes.”

“Then humans are even more blind than I thought since they cannot see true qualities. Eyes are a mirror to one’s soul. And I saw goodness in yours long ago, Bowen,” Draco said kindly.

“I’m not a good man, Draco. What I’ve done…”

“Yes. You are. You’ve proved it to me many times. Everyone makes mistakes, Bowen. And some, well, are much worse than others and we have to cope with them as best as we can.”

The dragon looked down at the dusty ground in sorrow. Yes, Bowen made poor choices. He’s slain many dragons.

But all of it was _his_ fault.

He gave half his heart to Einon and thus started Bowen’s dragon hunting and an alarming bloodletting.

People were dying because of him daily and his kind was practically extinct. He was no good and he deserved what was coming for him. However, it didn’t make him fear any less. There would be no heaven for him – just death.

“Draco?” Bowen didn’t like the woeful smile that his partner gave him as he glanced up at him again. He, of course, couldn’t know what the dragon was thinking, but in his deep amber eyes, he saw heartbreaking sorrow. Guilt, uncertainty and so much love.

The knight knew he had to change the topic and he also knew what to say. With a tight squeeze in his chest, he muttered, trying to repay the dragon’s kindness: “Your eyes are beautiful too.”

It seemed to catch the dragon completely off guard and he flinched a bit, blinking rapidly in confusion.

Bowen smiled at him warmly, fondly running his fingers along Draco’s jaw, and sighed when he leaned into his touch with abandon. The knight cuddled close to his chest and, hoping to get his friend’s mood up, asked: “Hmm, can you, maybe, sing something?”

Bowen supposed there were few humans (and even fewer knights) who could ask a dragon to sing for them without having a serious death wish. But he was one of them, it would seem. Because Draco just smiled at his request and chuckled, softly whispering: “I thought that my singing was annoying you.”

“N-no, i-it’s... You h-have a n-nice voice,” the knight stuttered and tried to hide his blush in the crook of his friend's neck. “Please, if it wouldn’t bother you…”

“It doesn’t, little one,” Draco replied and started to sing, slowly lulling Bowen into a peaceful slumber with his beautiful soft thrilling. 

* * *

“Well, I sure hope they won’t remember me.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes,” Bowen replied with a sigh, leaning forward in the saddle. Below the hill stood a group of small, primitive houses with thatched roofs circled by a shallow creek. 

He remembered it alright – Einon almost died here twelve years ago and he rushed to save him.

If the history would repeat itself, he’d let the boy perish, knowing what monstrosities would his survival cause through the dragon’s heart.

“It was a very long time ago,” he added. “But still… Things may not pan out.”

“Hmm. If they recognize you and you’ll decide that you don’t want to rob them, just let me know and I’ll meet you here,” Draco suggested, whirling around the knight and his nervous steed.

“Don’t call it robbing,” the man reminded him firmly.

“It _is_ robbing. No matter what you want to call it,” the dragon pointed out, closing the conversation, and flew up towards the sky.

Bowen sighed.

He knew – of course he did – that he was robbing the poor folk. And he was also very aware of how unknightly it was of him.

The fact was constantly prodding his conscience, making him angry and frustrated with himself. But… What could he do? He learned a long time ago that he won’t change society, the world. Not now, not ever.

Patting his stallion’s neck, he spurred the animal into a quick gallop. As he was nearing the village, he saw something he couldn’t quite comprehend.

A woman – young, probably in her early twenties – covered in dirt from head to toe. She was yelling something, surrounded by a crowd of peasants who were eagerly hurling globs of mud at her.

Ready to help if needed, he made his way through the rabble and then stopped abruptly, finally able to hear the lass’ speech.

“Throw off the yoke of Einon’s oppression!” she shrieked, unshaken by the received hatred and angry scowls.

 _Ah, yes. Brave,_ Bowen thought, _but stupid._

The girl was an absolute idiot!

People knew by now that a simple rebellion wouldn’t stop the tyranny. They’d rather kill her than stand up for themselves and revolt against the king.

And he hated to admit that he completely understood why.

She ranted on and on and Bowen watched her quietly, deciding whether he should put an end to the entire foolishness. He found it amusing. Well, that was until a large, well-built villager with one eye grabbed a pumpkin from a nearby stall, aiming for the girl’s head.

Bowen rolled his eyes and snatched it from his hand, breaking it against his saddle. The peasant glared at him bitterly, but said nothing, seeing that he was an armed knight. People around these parts didn’t meet a lot of friendly knights, he imagined.

“Why waste good food on bad rhetoric?” Bowen called.

“I speak the truth!” the girl snapped, frowning.

He could see a mop of curly red hair fall down her shoulder.

 _Brave, stupid, and a redhead too? She’s lucky these people don’t consider her a bloody witch!_ the knight thought, examining her further as spurred his steed forward.

The girl’s eyes were a dark shade of brown and full of fury. She reminded Bowen of his younger years. Fierce, full of vigor, and rebellious, but sooner or later, she will learn that this sort of attitude won’t get her anywhere. Just as he did as he got older.

“Truth!” he laughed, circling her. “Truth is rarely inspiring, lass. And it never wins wars or rebellions. But it will stretch plenty of necks.” Bowen leaned down, offering her half of the sliced pumpkin, and chuckled. “If there is a neck underneath that little… mud pie.”

The girl grinned, gently touching the back of his hand and… Sloshed the pumpkin into his face. Embarrassed, he wiped it off. And the crowd laughed until a woman screamed and pointed at the sky.

Bowen frantically brushed the remains of the pulp from his head to regain his dignity and smirked when the red-haired wench hid behind a group of barrels behind him.

* * *

Draco swooped down from the sky, roaring loudly, and landed on top of a cliff just above the village. He took a deep breath but instead of fire, smoke slowly rose from his nostrils.

He thought it would be threatening enough – and he truly didn’t care to cause any damage in this village. By the looks of them, the people were far too poor.

He sat atop the cliff, perched and peering at the knight who was talking to a brute of a peasant. They spoke for a while and then the mob of villagers surrounded a young – but terribly dirty – woman, tied her up to a cart and pushed it downhill.

It’s creaky wheels got stuck in the small, shallow creek that was running around the cluster of houses. And stars above, the girl was screaming like a madwoman! It was utterly annoying.

Glancing back at the group of houses and people, he realized that he couldn’t find the knight. It confused him and he kept staring forward until the man’s urgent hissing came from the bushes beneath the cliff.

“Bowen…?”

“Don’t look over here!”

“Oh, okay,” he nodded, shifting his gaze.

“Do you see her?” the knight asked.

“Yes. Who’s the girl?”

“She’s a nuisance. Get rid of her.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“How do I know? Eat her.”

“Oh, please. Yech.”

“Aren’t we squeamish! You ate sir Eglamore!”

“I merely chewed in self-defense!” he snarled, putting his wings to his sides, offended. “I never swallowed! Besides, what’s wrong with you? I’d never eat a human being! Let alone tied up and helpless!”

“Come on, now. We need to impress the yokels. They’re not very keen on paying me… Thanks to her,” the man muttered, rolling his eyes. “Scorch her at least!”

Draco growled, swinging his tail towards Bowen, and lightly hit his shoulder. “I am not killing anyone. I thought we had agreed that nobody innocent would die during the conning!”

“Okay, okay!” Bowen gave up. It was worthless. The dragon was too stubborn and too kind. And he couldn’t scold him for that – not that he wanted to. “Just do something with her and look as scary as you can while doing it, okay? Please!”

“Fine,” the dragon sighed and took off, swooping down to the village with a loud growl.

* * *

It’s been at least an hour since Draco flew off with the redhead. Bowen was still standing next to his whacker, tapping the large arrow nervously. The peasants around him were starting to mumble and laugh. Hewe, the man with one eye, patted his back and laughed: “Guess we won’t be seeing the dragon again! You can go on your merry way, oh mighty dragonslayer!”

“One small girl won’t satisfy such a large dragon! He’ll come back!” the knight protested, still waiting, whacker prepared for shooting.

But the dragon never came. And Bowen was starting to get worried. What… What if something bad happened to his friend? What if someone hurt him or – much, much worse – killed him? 

The country was still swarming with dragon hunters and even though Draco was a good fighter, one well-aimed shot from a hidden slayer and he’d die.

The knight’s belly flopped in fear, just thinking about it. Leaving the whacker in the village, he quickly hopped onto his horse and rode away. His heart was pounding in his chest like a church bell.

_God, please, may he be alive and well!_

_What will I do without him?_

_Where will I turn?_

He spurred his steed towards the waterfall, hoping that he’d find the dragon there. Galloping along the road, he heard singing. It was a happy song. And that deep rich voice undoubtedly belonged to Draco. A wave of relief washed over him and he almost fell off the saddle, legs growing weak. But then he noticed another voice, proving that his friend was not alone, and something else started to bubble deep within his chest – anger.

_Or… was it jealousy?_

There weren’t any dragonslayers, warriors, or any other danger that’s kept or endangered Draco. The dragon’s been busy flirting with the red-haired wench!


	5. Chapter 5

“Get off your horse, I’ll give you one!” the knight gritted out, staring at the man in a white surcoat. He was no longer the boy he remembered – there wasn’t a single spark in his dark, cold eyes, he’s grown into a lean warrior with no fear. At least that’s what Bowen thought, bearing in mind that Einon knew how strong he’s become thanks to the dragon’s heart.

The king smirked, dismounting and pulling out his well-forged blade. He stepped into the river, still leering at the older man, and moved forward. Holding his sword up, Bowen followed. It’s been long since he’s fought a duel. And he wasn’t so sure of himself. He quickly glanced to the right. At the waterfall – at Draco, seeking reassurance. But in the gloomy shadows of the cave, he saw nothing but an iridescent ripple of movement.

Einon attacked suddenly and with great force. Bowen had to brace his foot against a large stone in the river to withstand it. Quickly, he spun and so did the king, changing each other’s places. The knight had a hard time deflecting the fast sallies. Einon was breaking the wedged embraces of their blades fast, sending sparks everywhere. With one screeching hit, the knight stumbled, falling backward on the bank.

“Lie down, Bowen!” the king bellowed, spit flying from his snickering mouth. “You’re a sorry scrap of dead words and dead beliefs!”

The knight trembled, rising in anger. “No!” he shouted. “They were your beliefs!”

“Never! Never mine!”

Bowen thrust his sword against Einon’s, but he caught it. He wanted him dead now more than ever. What sort of bewitchment has the dragon caused? Did Einon forget everything he taught him and also who he once was?

“You said the words!” he shrieked. “You spoke them from your heart!”

“I vomited them up because I couldn’t stomach them! Because I knew you wanted to hear them!”

“Liar!” the knight yelled, desperately trying to hit Einon – to pierce his heart at best. “I taught you!”

“You taught me to fight, that’s all,” the king replied, laughing and mocking the knight’s too obvious misery. “I took what I needed from you! You taught me to fight!”

Bowen, completely befuddled and too dazed to do anything else, let Einon drive him to the center of the creek. With a strong swing, he fenced off the older man’s weapon and stabbed the tip of his sword into his shoulder, making Bowen fall to his knees. The knight cried in pain, reaching for the wound, and never let his eyes move from Einon.

“And you taught me well,” the king hissed, pulling his blade back and letting it slide back into its leathery sheath. He turned around, slowly walking away, and grabbed something from below his belt. Bowen saw a dagger glitter in the sun before Draco’s large body blocked his vision.

The dragon roared, scaring both Einon and his minions who rode away as fast as they could.

Bowen didn’t even care to stand up, ignoring the pain and his soaked pants. Kara, the red-haired girl who stood behind him the whole time rushed to him through the water. Her soft palm landed on his shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll help you up!” she said, offering her hand to him.

He didn’t take it.

“Draco…”

The dragon turned at the man’s quiet whisper, eyes sad and worried. “Bowen?”

Seeing that his friend wasn’t hurt, he finally took Kara’s hand and got up. He stared at the road to the waterfall for a long time. And he wasn’t alone. Both of his companions kept their eyes on the path.

Draco in guilt and wrath.

Kara in pure throbbing rage.

* * *

“I’m gonna go and find you some healing herbs for that wound of yours,” Kara said softly after she was done with cleaning the poke in the knight’s shoulder. She tugged the sleeve of his black shirt down, folding it, to prevent the fabric from growing into his flesh. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. You watch over him, Draco.”

“Sure, lass,” the dragon replied with a sad smile and, knowing that the knight was too busy sorting things in his head, added: “Thank you.”

Kara soon disappeared in the forest and Draco heaved a heavy sigh, looking at his friend. Bowen was holding his head in his hands and he didn’t move for a long time now. He was getting very worried. Fondly, he rubbed his folded wing against the man’s forearm. Truthfully, he expected that the man would immediately push it away. Much to his surprise, the knight’s fingers landed on top of the wing, digging into the warm scales.

“Bowen, do you want to talk about what happened? The girl is gone now, it’s just the two of us.”

The knight nodded and let go of his face, revealing that his eyes were red and watery. “All this time I blamed everything Einon did on that dragon,” he mumbled, voice weak and shaking. “And he wasn’t responsible for it. Not one bit, I can see that now. My Lord, I was such an idiot…”

Draco lay down, leaning to the whimpering man, and carefully caressed Bowen’s knee with his thumb. He was ready to tell him. This could be the right moment to finally let go of the lie. But…

“I still hate that dragon, though,” the knight continued after a moment of silence and Draco retreated. “If it wasn’t for him, Einon would be dead. With all his evil. And I could still believe that he was pure. I’d never know what kind of cruelty flowed in his veins. I would be happier then.”

He couldn’t reveal the truth yet after all. 

He was too afraid of losing the knight. 

Of losing the one who saw him for more than a mindless beast. Who _knew_ that he was a person behind all the scales, sharp teeth, and balls of fire. 

“You are right, little one,” Draco cooed, shifting his thumb to the man’s reddened face, and fondly brushed his forehead and hair. Bowen’s blue orbs fixated on him in surprise. “If it wasn’t for the dragon, Einon would be dead. And, trust me, I hate him just as much as you do. If not even more.”

* * *

“Frauds!” Kara yelled. “Both! For the love of all that is holy!”

“Now, Kara…”

“No, Draco! I thought that you were innocent in this! But turns out that you are just as bad as this blackmailer here!”

Bowen turned to her, rolling his eyes, and grabbed her by the elbow. “Listen, miss. Don’t you dare accuse him of what I am doing, you hear? He had no other choice!”

“Yes. Yes, I had a choice,” the dragon said solemnly, shaking his head in regret, and looked down on the upset redhead. “And the choice is still right in front of me. But… Even if it seems strange and unbelievable I’m doing my best here to help the peasants. It needs time to show.”

“Oh, really? Does plucking their pockets seem like a good help to you? Where are your morals? Did Bowen shatter them with his stunning charm and baby blues?”

“Lass!” the knight’s angry voice made her freeze and stop talking. “Leave him alone!”

Draco took a deep breath. They’ve been traveling together for a couple of hours now and the girl wouldn’t stop yelling and fighting with them. He, however, didn’t blame her. The truth was on her side. Yes, he should have never started conning villages with Bowen. He should’ve done many things differently. He could see it. Especially now, when the fear of death vanished from his soul.

In that cave, when he saw Einon pull a dagger out, ready to kill his knight, he didn’t think about his soul or eternity. Everything that mattered was Bowen. And he had to protect him at all costs. The knight had to live – a decent life, not only survive as a criminal. Draco wanted better for him. Better for Kara and everyone in the country.

They deserved it.

And with a bit of the knight’s help, he could deliver.

Losing his place among the stars was nothing compared to that.

“Please, stop bickering,” he implored, gently separating the humans with his hand. Kara glared at him. Bowen glared at Kara and then turned to him with nothing but fondness in his eyes.

“Ugh! I can’t stand these invalid arguments of yours anyway!” the girl hissed, spinning on the heel of her poorly sewn shoe. “I’m heading to the nearest village and I’ll do my best to start a rebellion. While you two do whatever you want, wasting your lives being no better than Einon!”

“Kara!” Draco called after her. “You can’t do that alone! It’s dangerous for you. Didn’t you see that people in your village weren’t very keen on revolting against the king? They tried to kill you!”

“Then come with me,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder and Bowen thought he heard a lilt of hope in her voice. The girl was looking at the dragon sternly and he just stared back, not knowing what to say. She must’ve noticed a glimpse of compassion in those big amber eyes of Draco’s. And she was willing to use it. “Come and we can do this together! You don’t need the knight if you’ll have a whole village of people!”

That couldn’t be denied and Bowen knew it. He looked at his friend, gut full of worry that maybe… Maybe he’d take the offer and leave him. When the dragon opened his mouth to reply, his heart almost jumped out of his chest.

“No, my dear. I can’t do that right now, even though your plea touches me.”

The knight quietly groaned in relief.

Draco didn’t want to leave Bowen behind – he cared about him far too much. After he’d die, Bowen had to be safe and happy. He will go and help Kara, but only with Bowen by his side. And before that can happen, he has to explain everything to the knight.

“Fine. When we meet again, I’ll be yielding Einon’s head!” she smirked victoriously, leaving the dragon and the knight alone once more as she quickly headed down the hill.

“I would like to see that!” Bowen smiled, shaking his head, and sat down next to his friend. “She’s got a spark, I’ll give her that. But other than that, she has nothing…” He mused for a while, realizing that Draco was strangely quiet. He boldly placed his hand on his arm and smiled when the dragon beamed back at him. “Thank you for staying with me. And… for protecting me back at the waterfall.”

“You’re very welcome, little one.”

The knight cleared his throat and whispered: “You’re everything I’ve got.”

The corners of Draco’s mouth rose even further as he bent his neck to rest his nose against Bowen’s hurt shoulder. He stayed quiet, just gazing into the depths of the shiny golden eyes in front of him. His heart sped up, his lips parted and for a moment he wished to lean in and close the distance between them.


	6. Chapter 6

Dismounting his horse, Bowen stumbled a little. His foot got caught in the stirrup and his tipsy mind couldn’t quite comprehend how not to fall. Thankfully, he was able to brace himself against a nearby tree, stabilizing his posture.

Bowen tugged the horse’s reins and tied them around a branch, keeping his eyes on the forest in front of him. Behind him, there was a grassy clearing on a cliff and undoubtedly a concerned dragon. His fingers were vibrating as he finally collected his courage, composing himself, and faced Draco.

Moonlight’s silver glitter and golden shimmer danced along his scales as he lay loosely curled around the campfire. Bowen could tell that the dragon was surveying him and when their eyes met, he blushed a bright crimson. A tingly sensation sparked deep within his gut as soon as he looked into those large amber orbs full of affection.

“You’re drunk,” the dragon commented quietly, raising his eyebrows to emphasize how astounded he was. When Bowen told him he was going to get a drink, he didn't expect him to look like this when he returned. The knight's hair and beard were messy, face flushed and steps wary as he made his way towards him.

“Yeah,” the man chuckled, thoroughly rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “But not too much. I just wanted to clear my head for a moment. After all that Einon business.”

Draco sighed. “Because getting drunk is the best way to clear one’s mind. Why didn’t you…”

The dragon sighed again.

Bowen frowned.

His friend seemed to be disappointed by the knight’s decision. He hated to see dismay and sadness in Draco’s kind face. He'd rather withstand the dragon’s anger. As he slowly stepped forward he was ready to apologize and make amends. And then…

His foot got caught between two of the stones lined up around the campfire and he ended up falling backward. Thankfully, Draco’s hand was there to save him before his back hit the hard stone of the cliff. He steadied himself and got up, never letting go of his friend to assure he wouldn’t trip again.

“Whoa. I could’ve ended up with a humongous bruise on my ass,” he giggled, leaning against his partner’s body. “Thank you.”

No response.

The dragon was still quiet and Bowen could swear that the silence was much louder than the growls and yelling he wished to face. If he was more like Kara, he’d be boasting about his stupidity and inadequacy of handling problems. The knight wouldn’t make much of it. 

But Draco was Draco. 

And Bowen learned to feel bad when he silently disapproved of his actions.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I know I shouldn't have done this,” he tried to mollify him, softly cuddling into the dragon’s neck in hopes it could ease the situation. “I’m a downright fool. Can... Will you talk to me?”

“Of course I’ll talk to you,” the dragon sighed. “But why didn’t you ask me in the first place, instead of dragging your butt to a tavern?”

“I… Well…” Bowen didn’t know what to tell him. It was an instinct, perhaps. Before Draco, there was nobody and nothing he could turn to except the ale. It wasn’t reasonable at all, he knew. But getting drunk was the only way to forget everything bad he’s done and still _is_ doing.

“I’ve got you.” Draco’s voice softened as he put his hand on the man’s stiff shoulder. “And I am always here for you. So, go on. Speak.”

“I know. Sorry,” the knight muttered and snorted as he sat down in front of the dragon, fire crackling beside him. He tugged at the few strands of grass which were emerging from the cracks in the cliff and looked down onto his calloused fingers.

“How do I know whether someone loves me the same way I love them?” Bowen uttered. He couldn’t look into Draco’s eyes while asking that. The dragon could read him like an open book that way. Especially now, when he was tipsy and willing to spill the truth.

“Oh! Well, I wasn’t expecting that question,” the dragon chuckled, seemingly relieved and more relaxed. He took a deep breath and, with a gentle smile, leaned down to the human, tilting Bowen’s head up with the claw of his index finger.

The wisdom in Draco’s eyes frightened Bowen, but his words were calming and his voice soothingly deep, smooth like silk. Almost as if he knew _why_ Bowen was asking.

“Just focus on how they act, how they talk to you… True affection isn’t hard to see if you try,” the dragon purred, sliding his finger along the man’s jaw to caress and reassure him. “Wait, be patient. Things will come together, eventually.”

“All right. That’s… all I wanted to ask,” he lied and yawned, stretching his arms. “I think we should go to sleep now. We’re heading to another village tomorrow.”

***

“Did you see _that_?!” the knight hissed, leaning over the bridge to look at the dragon, sprawled in the shallow grey water. “That wench followed us!”

“Yes. She’s unstoppable,” Draco chuckled, speaking through the corner of his mouth and remaining deadly still. “You’ve got to give her some credit for that.”

“You can’t be serious! Did you two team up or something?”

“Oh, please. You know I’d never do that behind your back. I’d most definitely use it to tease you right away.”

Bowen grunted, displeased with the situation.

Kara strutted over to the village just when he managed to convince the chief to pay him. She persuaded the peasants to pay him after he slays the dragon and ruined his plan. He was supposed to lose this time, but without money in his pocket… Well, he had to ask Draco to dive into the marsh. And it only made things worse.

The dragon couldn’t disappear beneath the water and swim away. Nor jump up, grab Bowen and disappear in the sky. The knight wanted to make a profit (even though this one wouldn’t be so great, the villagers filled the pig head with many strange objects) and Brother Gilbert, who appeared in the swamp out of nowhere too, was yielding it in his fist.

“Bowen! Oh! Look at him! That’s quite a kill!”

The knight jerked when the monk’s hand settled on his shoulder and turned around only to grab the elder by the shoulders and shove him away from the edge of the bridge.

“Well done, Bowen!” the priest ranted on, clapping his hands happily, and pointed at the dragon. “He’s even _bigger_ than the last one!”

“Actually,” he cleared his throat, “he’s about the same size.”

Bowen had to try very hard to ignore Kara’s smug grin as she leaned over his shoulder to take a quick glance at what was going on. He shrugged, shaking the woman off, and gave her an intense death stare.

“Meat!” came the chief’s voice from behind.

Worry squeezed the knight’s stomach at once and he abruptly grabbed the railing, no longer caring about the money. “Draco!” he urged, pushing the astonished monk away again when the dragon’s yellow eye popped open. “Draco, you need to get out of here. Now!”

“Meat!” The peasants chanted with their leader as they ran towards the bridge, holding scythes and knives in their hands, ready for the feast.

The dragon’s eyes went wide as he realized what was going on. “Heavens,” he sighed, rolling over, and stood up only to find out that his legs were stuck in the thick mud. “Drat!”

Bowen turned to the girl and the monk as he jumped off the bridge into the muck, rushing to help the dragon out. “Find my horse, hop on and get over here or we’re all dead!” he called, making his way over to Draco who was still struggling to pull his legs out of the marsh.

“Bowen, no!” Draco growled.

“Bowen, yes!” the knight protested, diving his hands into the dirt and bracing the dragon’s calf. “I’m not leaving you here, you fool! What would I do without you?”

The dragon gave him an incredibly soft look, making Bowen’s knees grow weak, and jumped out of the marsh, hurtling skyward. He took a gentle hold of the man’s body in the process and seated him on top of his neck. The knight’s legs gripped Draco like a vice – even though Bowen had grown used to flying, he still wasn’t too comfortable with it.

“Draco, we have to go back for them or those heathens will eat Gilbert and Kara for dinner!”

“I know,” he replied and flew around the village, searching for Bowen’s stallion and the two riders between the angry mob of hungry peasants. “I’m on it.”

* * *

“Bowen?” the monk sighed quietly, spinning around to examine the large castle and the tombs of the ancient knights. “This is Avalon! It’s a sign!”

“Yes,” the redhead agreed, tugging at the sleeve of the knight’s shirt. “We must fight Einon! There’s hope, Bowen! Can’t you see? Come and be the knight you’ve sworn to be!”

“Kara, you’ve seen how brave the people in your village are. Throwing vegetables on an innocent woman is all their courage is good for,” the knight muttered. “I… There is no hope. They will not join you.”

“Will _you _wish us luck, Draco?” she asked, turning to the dragon who sat perched on the largest stone of the circle.__

__“Long ago, when man was young and the dragon already old, the wisest of our race took pity on man. He gathered together all the dragons, making them vow to watch over man always. And at the moment of his death, the night became alive with those stars,” Draco said softly, pointing up at the dragon constellation. Its bright glitter seemed to emphasize the dragon’s wise words in the dark of the night. “And so, the dragon heaven was created. But not all dragons are admitted to this shining place when they die. No, we have to earn it. And if we don’t, our spirit disappears as if we never were.”_ _

__A long, heavy pause full of woeful sorrow._ _

__“That’s why I shared my life force with a dying boy. So I would reunite man and dragon and ensure my place among my ancient brothers of the sky. But… My sacrifice became my sin,” Draco sighed regretfully, leaning down from the stone with King Arthur’s engraving, and fixated his sad amber eyes on the knight._ _

__“That was you? _Your_ heart beats in Einon’s breast?” Bowen asked quietly, voice shaky and weak under the weight of all the emotions that downed on him with crushing force._ _

__It couldn’t be true. Couldn’t be…_ _

__Draco couldn’t be the dragon from the mountain!_ _

__He hated that dragon… And he loved Draco._ _

__He was the kindest, the gentlest… His heart would not turn Einon into a cruel, merciless monster._ _

__“Yes,” Draco admitted, slowly descending from the tower amid the circle of eerie stone graves, and humbly walked over to Bowen. He gazed deep into the man’s eyes and saw that Bowen was terrified. And then the knight looked away from the pity in his face. “Half my heart that cost me all my soul. Even then I knew his bloodthirsty nature but I thought my heart could change him. I was… naive.”_ _

__Bowen, frustrated and helpless, let out a short laugh. “No more than I,” the knight said bitterly. “I dreamed of serving noble kings… Noble ideas… But dreams die hard and you hold them in your dreams long after they’ve turned to dust. I won’t be that naive again!”_ _

__The dragon closed his eyes, sadness filling his heart to the very brim, and sharply turned his head away from the man. He wasn’t able to do it after all. He didn’t manage to bring the knight of the Old Code back from the depths of Bowen’s hurt soul._ _

__And as much as he loved Bowen, as much as he held him dear, he had to rid the world of Einon once and for all. Draco couldn’t stay with the knight. He had to help the red-haired lass and the monk. “So be it,” he whispered, words almost inaudible._ _

__“Farewell, Bowen.”_ _


	7. Chapter 7

Bowen’s never been exceptional at recognizing and embracing his feelings. Yet now, kneeling in front of Pendragon’s sacred grave, he felt the bitterness of sorrow and disillusion slowly seep out of his aching soul. But his chest was still tight, squeezed by the emptiness around him. 

Bowen regained his righteousness, stopped denying himself, and at the same time lost everything. 

His dear, precious dragon. 

His Draco.

His only friend was gone. Just because Bowen, blinded by the lies he’s been feeding himself, once again took Einon’s side instead of Draco’s. 

Even when Draco was the only one who saw him for who he truly was deep inside. The knight shook his head, quietly sobbing, and let the heavenly rain pour down his flushed face, hoping it could purify his foolishness. 

Oh, what a fool he’s been for pushing the dragon away! For not following him. 

Wiping his cheeks with the wet sleeve of his soaked black tunic, Bowen swore to himself that he’ll find the dragon no matter where he went. 

_Right when the storm passes, I'll head out and look for you,_ he thought, glancing up at the sky in search of the stars. 

But the storm’s covered the heavens with dark grey clouds, not allowing the man to hold onto any sort of hope. 

With a flash of lightning, the knight flinched. 

Head tilted, he squinted into the darkness in front of him, searching for the source of the sudden ripple of movement behind Arthur’s tombstone. Another bolt illuminated the darkness and, finally, Bowen was able to catch a short glimpse of... Draco! Slowly, gracefully walking towards the circle of stones within which the knight knelt. 

Bowen gasped, short of breath. His heartbeat sped up, joy filling every inch of his body, and all the knight wanted to do was run to him. 

Trembling, he stood up and strode over to the dragon, throwing himself into Draco’s waiting, inviting arms. His embrace was warm, loving, and reassuring. 

Once the dragon’s palm came to rest against the man’s side, Bowen eagerly leaned into his touch and buried his face into his friend’s chest. 

“You’re back,” he whispered, shaking all over. 

He rested his left hand against the dragon’s neck while the right one slithered up to Draco’s heart. Bowen desperately needed to feel him. Just to be sure that he wasn’t only an illusion of his stranded mind. Feeling the scarred flesh and the heartbeat beneath the pads of his calloused fingers brought him solace and he heaved a long sigh. 

“Of course I am,” the dragon muttered, mouth pressed against the man’s wet yellow hair. The heavy lilt of affection in his voice made Bowen’s legs grow weak in the knees and he was sure he’d crumble to the ground if it wasn’t for Draco’s solid body against his own. 

His friend shifted and pulled away – but only far enough to look into the man’s blue eyes and brush his cold cheek with the pad of his thumb. A low thrum emitted from the dragon’s chest and Bowen pressed his face into him with a soft, quiet gasp, glancing up into Draco’s gorgeous amber eyes. He saw everything in them – everything he could possibly ever want. And right then, Bowen knew that he was the cure for his misery.

Draco picked all of his broken pieces and glued them together with his patience and love, even though Bowen was trying to run away from himself the whole time. 

“Thank you,” the knight whispered with a broken voice, shyly reaching out for his friend. The dragon gave him a reassuring smile. A couple of stray raindrops ran down his face and Bowen collected them with his palm as he gently stroked the dragon’s jawline. 

“I... I couldn’t leave you here,” Draco purred, reveling in the feeling of Bowen’s calloused hand against his scales, and followed the movement of the knight’s arm with his gaze. His touch was so gentle that for a moment he was able to forget the weight on his shoulders. For a couple of seconds, nothing such as eternity, death, pain, or remorse bothered the dragon’s mind and he was finally able to relax.

To relax, but not to let go. 

Turning back to the man, Draco saw a strange glint in those shiny blue orbs – the glitter was caused by tears, gathered in the inner corners of Bowen’s eyes. He was on the edge of bursting himself. Feeling the frustration that’s been straining the muscles in his neck for longer than he could remember finally vanish was... A lot of relief at once. 

As Draco continued to speak, he couldn’t prevent his voice from dropping lower than was usual. “I couldn’t leave you behind and walk away after all we’ve been through, knowing that you were finally prepared to overcome your disillusion. And now, when I look at you, Bowen, I see that you’re almost at peace. It seems that I was right to bring you to this sacred place. Avalon is known for healing broken souls and…”

“It wasn’t Avalon that healed me. Nor King Arthur,” the knight broke in, startling the dragon. The rain was gone, Bowen realized, and the sky was once again full of stars and cloudless. The familiar constellation caught his eye as it shined on the night’s black curtain, just above Draco’s head. Almost as if it was a sign.

As the knight continued, he didn’t care to suppress a soft smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It was just you, Draco. You made me better than I was. If it wasn’t for your kindness, for your wisdom, I’d still be out there.” Bowen pointed somewhere in the distance, hoping that it was in the direction of the land. Of the country filled with lies, pain, death, and wickedness which led him astray. “I’d be running from my heart and everything true.”

With a shaky breath, the knight pulled out of his friend’s embrace, falling to his knees. “Please, forgive me for what I’ve done, if you can. To you and your kind in my anger and blindness,” he mumbled, letting his chin slump against his chest in guilt. He knew he couldn’t take back what he’s done or resurrect the dragons he slew.

“All is forgiven, little one. I find no fault in you,” the dragon said fondly, voice thick with emotion. He was crumbling under the weight of Bowen’s hopeful, affectionate, and _thankful_ gaze. Draco couldn’t withstand his adoring act either after the destruction he’s brought by his naivety. So he took a gentle hold of the man’s forearm and pulled him up. “Please, don’t. Do not kneel to me again. Bow to God. Bow to King Arthur. Bow to those who deserve such worshipping.”

“But, Draco, you’ve done so much…”

“Yes. And I’ve done so much evil. I allowed the seed of tyranny to grow within the country and I only enhanced its expansion by giving half my heart to Einon,” the dragon hissed, bitterness and remorse seeping from his words.

And Bowen could tell that he wasn’t the only one blinded by Einon. He needed to open Draco’s eyes just as the dragon opened his. His friend couldn’t see clearly through the milky curtain of guilt and sorrow and Bowen wanted to show him that he was worth _everything_.

“Can we take a walk? I’d like to look around some more, now that it stopped raining,” he suggested sweetly, smiling at the dragon who nodded, repeating his gesture.

Draco took the lead and Bowen followed him up the rocky hill, through the graves and tombs of ancient knights until they reached a run-down, fallen tower. It was built on a cliff above the – now calm – ocean. As they silently stood amid its ruins, stargazing, Bowen’s eyes darted to the dragon.

He looked so magnificent with silver light dancing along his copper, gold, and black scales and Bowen felt a strong urge to touch him. Not only because he liked feeling Draco’s power buzz in his hands, but because he wanted to reassure him. With a quiet huff, he stepped closer to the dragon’s well-muscled arm and leaned against him, keeping his gaze fixated on his face.

When Draco’s eyes met his, the knight’s heart fluttered. The love in them was more striking than ever, leaving him weak and very much aware of how drastically his feelings for the dragon changed. Bowen fell head over heels for him throughout the past few weeks as they were growing close to each other.

Truthfully, he was struggling with it at first. He’s only ever felt attracted to the fairer sex until then and he thought his feelings were nothing more than a mere infatuation. But the need and love didn’t disappear like he initially thought and, slowly, he began to understand that he was absolutely enamored of Draco.

And there was nothing he could do about it even if he would want to. 

It, of course, took him a while to process and accept that. He wasn’t ashamed or afraid though, just a little shaken. 

The common folk hopefully wouldn’t get to know that he’s fallen for a dragon and banish him… Bowen would have to hide the love in his eyes when he’d look at his partner.

And Draco was very open-minded and understanding. Even if he’d never be able to feel the same way towards Bowen, he wouldn’t hate the man for revealing the truth. That much was clear.

“Oh, Draco,” he sighed quietly, crossing his arms on his chest, “if heaven won’t accept you, it’ll only be because it doesn’t deserve you. You only ever wanted to do the good thing – you did what you thought was right. Even if it didn’t pan out perfectly, I think you shouldn’t be punished for it. You should be rewarded.”

“You’re too kind to me, little one,” the dragon chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No,” Bowen protested gently and turned around to face Draco, heart pounding in his chest wildly. “That’s the truth. And I can’t even imagine how I came to deserve you. But know that I cannot live without you now and I will follow you wherever you go.”

Draco leaned down to the man’s level and touched his back and shoulder, lovingly stroking him with the tips of his claws. Bowen shivered at that, inching closer and the dragon hoped he wasn’t aware of the battle that’s ensued in his mind.

He wanted to be with Bowen always.

Heavens he did!

But... He wanted to protect him more. And to do that efficiently, he had to die and thus, hurt the man greatly.

“My dearest knight,” he sighed, “as much as I... I want to, I-I’m afraid that I can’t be your future.”

Bowen didn’t understand what exactly Draco meant, but he wasn’t bothered by it. Because in the dragon’s eyes, he saw the same longing. The same need. And that was about all that he had to know.

He felt bold as he reached for Draco’s chin this time, rubbing loving circles into his scales. “Then don’t be my future,” Bowen responded breathily. “Be my present. Without you, I don't feel complete.”

“Bowen.”

The knight could swear that nobody’s ever said his name so softly, so fondly yet painfully. As if his words were just what Draco wanted, _needed_ to hear but cut deep into his heart at the same time. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

And when the dragon leaned to him rapidly, almost closing the distance between them completely, Bowen was ready to finally feel more of him. To show Draco just how much he desired to be his.

Just his.

But before their mouths could connect, before the knight, standing on tiptoes, could press his lips to the dragon’s...

A sharp happy cry came from the distance.

“Boys!”

It was Kara’s cry.

Their moment shattered at once as they both turned to look at the approaching redhead. She was swiftly making her way through the ruins, zigzagging between stone bricks and half-destroyed walls. Once she reached the cliff, she threw herself on Bowen and squeezed him in an uncomfortably tight hug, not saying a word until Draco gently tapped her shoulder with his claw. “Lass, do you mind? He can’t breathe.”

She let go of the knight then, mumbling a quiet apology. And Bowen looked up at Draco longingly as the dragon’s wing came to rest on his shoulder. At the sight of unrelenting love in his eyes, the knight wanted their moment back. He wanted to feel him. But... His eyes wandered back to Kara. As stormy blue orbs met brown ones, the redhead stepped back, recognizing irritation in his eyes.

Draco frowned but said nothing. Perhaps he was a bit angry himself. Or maybe he just didn’t want to stir Bowen's attitude.

“S-so,” the girl stuttered, clearing her throat, “you’ll be coming with us, knight? To fight Einon?”

“Yes,” he replied, settling his hands on Kara’s shoulders before she could leap onto him again. As he did so, she blushed and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, glancing at the ground. “Well, thank you.”

“Do not thank me.” Bowen leaned back into Draco’s touch as he traced the tip of his wing all the way down to the man’s lower back. The loving, reassuring pressure at the base of his spine made him shiver and gasp a weak: “You should thank Draco.”

“Oh, please. I... I merely pointed you in the right direction, Bowen. It was you who took the first step.”

Too humble.

Too kind.

As always.

Even though Bowen was now sure that Draco was more than any human could ever be. He was so different, so special and he deserved much better than he got.

“Anyway, thank you both for helping me. Should we head back?” Kara questioned, shifting her gaze to the dragon’s face. “It’s late. And Gilbert is waiting in the cave you showed us, Draco.”

“I think I will carry you two back to the kingdom. Me and Bowen... Well, we need a day off. You can go to your village in the meantime, explain everything to the people. We’ll be there at the dawn of the third day.”

“Oh. O-okay. I’m gonna go and find Gilbert then.” With those words, Kara headed back into the darkness, leaving the knight and the dragon alone once more.

Bowen reached for Draco’s arm, kneading the firm muscles in desperation. “A day off?” he asked as hotness spread through his underbelly. Bowen hoped that the dragon was thinking about the same thing as he was.

Because he needed it.

Needed Draco.

“Yes,” the dragon replied, smiling fondly at the man, and leaned to press a very soft kiss into Bowen’s partly wet hair. The knight melted at that. Seeking more, he hugged his partner’s forearm and let out a short gasp.

“A day for us.”


	8. Chapter 8

Draco must’ve returned early in the morning, Bowen reckoned. He wasn’t sure though. When the dragon curled around him in the darkness, he was still half-asleep, dancing on the thin line of consciousness. But once the first sun rays landed on his heavy, glued lids, the knight grunted and rubbed them, traveling his fingers down to the edge of his jaw. He flinched at the roughness of his own stubble and his eyes fluttered open.

Bowen shielded them from the sharp light, turning his head to the right, but they became accustomed to it quickly. The knight shifted and the stiff joints in his back cracked, making him groan in both – discomfort and relief. His muscles were very much relaxed though, due to the warmth that was radiating from Draco’s body. And he leaned into his partner with vigor, seeking more of the pleasant comfort and heat.

The dragon chuckled as Bowen nuzzled his forearm, tucking his tanned arms into the crook of Draco’s elbow to get rid of the goosebumps. The knight noted that Draco looked weary – almost as if he didn’t sleep for ages. But he knew that it wasn’t true.

His partner didn’t have any problems with dozing off. He was a rather heavy sleeper, after all.

Perhaps it was caused by his constant sorrow and woeful thoughts.

Bowen had to pull him out of that.

“Good morning,” Draco greeted him quietly with a soft smile, lovingly caressing the man’s temple with his thumb. He tilted his head and leaned down to Bowen, lightly resting the edge of his chin on the knight’s left shoulder. The dragon secured him within his arms and stretched his elegant wings, covering them both from the cold breeze which was blowing into the cave through its mouth.

“And to you,” Bowen muttered, voice rough and tongue stiff from the night rest. Much to his surprise, the dragon said nothing when he tried to test the waters by pressing his plush lips to his scaly knuckle. It was a mere brush, not a peck. He wasn’t bold enough to initiate a kiss yet and... Even though they were having a moment on the cliff, Bowen wasn’t sure of anything.

Draco hummed, surveying Bowen with interest, and carefully slithered one of his claws under the man’s armpit. He saw that his action startled the human, but couldn’t be bothered to say anything, knowing that it was unnecessary. Pushing his claw upwards, the knight stumbled and braced himself, standing up.

“Come. There’s something I want to show you,” he said as he got up as well, suppressing a tempting yawn, and wrapped his tail around Bowen’s waist. The man’s arms flailed around before he settled them on the dragon’s scales.

Draco couldn’t help but notice that Bowen was no longer wearing his armor. He probably took it off yesterday, letting it dry, and now, he was only clothed in his black tunic. It was made of a very pleasant material that clung to the man’s body, showing off his wide shoulders and small hips.

Bowen had nice proportions – that couldn’t be denied. He was rugged and perhaps more weathered than he should have been, considering his age. (The dragon guessed he was in his mid-thirties – he never asked. It didn’t matter, after all.) But there also was a strange gentleness to him. One that made Draco wonder how come Bowen, a man with calloused yet delicate hands, didn’t find love sooner.

The flow of his thoughts didn’t break even as he was leading the man through the many halls of the cave. With a deep sigh, Draco shook his head in disbelief. If only Bowen tried to look for a spouse sooner, they wouldn’t fall head over heels for each other after they met, he was sure.

And it would be better for him.

Not because Draco didn’t love him.

Heavens knew he did. Nor because he was a dragon and Bowen a man. That didn’t bother him at all. 

It was the pain that he’ll soon bring upon his little one. Pain of death – another misery he will have to cope with. And at this point, whether they will or won’t seek union and passion in each other, the sharp blade of ache shall pierce Bowen’s heart just as painfully.

The knight’s soft gasp brought Draco back to reality and he stopped at once. Bowen bumped into his calf and huffed, never looking away from the table in the middle of the cave chamber. It was a large round stone table.

The Round table.

And in its middle perched the sacred sword of king Arthur, majestic and shiny as if it was regularly polished. The blade was creating a huge contrast with the web covered alabaster thrones, seeming ancient and untouched by time. Bowen marveled at the sight, slowly approaching, and ran his fingers over the cold hard iron.

He shivered.

It was like touching a relic.

“Draco, how did you...?” Bowen didn’t know what to ask. He had so many questions and he couldn’t find the right one.

_How did you find this place?_

__

_How did you know where Avalon is?_

__

_Who showed you the way?_

__

_How many times were you here?_

__

_Did you know these men? The Knights of the Round table?_

_Did you meet King Arthur?_

_How old are you, Draco?_

_Will you ever tell me?_

But only a short amazed huff left Bowen’s parted lips as he gazed up at the dragon, who just chuckled, saying: “It's a long story.” Almost as if he perfectly knew what was going on in the knight’s head.

Bowen wouldn’t be surprised if he truly did because the wisdom in Draco’s eyes seemed to have no end.

The knight inhaled, fingers shaking on the top of the solid stone. He always thought the Round Table would be situated in the center of the castle hall, rather than in a cave beneath it. But it was no less magnificent than he imagined. The carvings on the desk were captivating, capturing many scenes from the life of King Arthur and the adventures of his knights. As Bowen walked around the altar of his once lost dreams, the hilt of the sword caught his eye and he stopped at once.

There was a small, almost unnoticeable silver dragon emblem in its middle. It was perhaps too serpentine and unlike any dragon he’s seen, yet still beautiful in its own way. “He adored you, didn’t he?” Bowen asked quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. “Adored your kind? Followed the wisdom of dragons?”

“Yes,” Draco responded, slowly walking in the man’s direction. He craned his neck over Bowen’s shoulder as he stood behind him, taking a closer look at Arthur’s weapon, and continued: “He was one of the last who did. Arthur tried his best to renew the brotherhood between dragons and mankind. He managed to, but only partly. Over the course of the years, men grew arrogant again and forgot him just as they forgot that dragons only ever wanted to protect and guide them. From now on, people will have to look after themselves alone. Days of mutual love and respect between man and dragon are done.”

“Not yet. I mean... Here we are,” Bowen muttered, closing his eyes, and backed up, arms stretched behind his back. His palms settled on Draco’s sturdy chest first and the knight simply allowed himself to fall backward until his back hit the warm scales too. Hot breath ruffled his hair seconds after and Bowen gasped as the dragon pressed his mouth into the crook of his neck with a low purr.

The knight didn’t open his eyes when he turned his head, face bumping into his partner’s nose. His exhales became louder as his heart sped up, almost jumping out of his breast. Draco was just as tense as him, muscles strained and chest rising more frequently than before. Bowen gasped, not expecting to feel his hand against his side.

He gulped.

The dragon gently moved his palm higher until he closed his fingers over Bowen’s own, turning the man around with one swift movement and bringing the pads of his fingers to his heart. And as the knight realized just where he was touching Draco, his eyes popped open. The scarred flesh was soft and so unlike the hard scale which covered it.

Not armored.

Vulnerable.

Draco wanted him to realize how far they have come.

Only a couple of weeks ago, they were at each other’s throats. Now, he was letting Bowen touch the only spot on his body that nobody’s put their hands on before – excluding himself, of course. He would never show such a great weakness to anyone but the knight. That was the little one’s privilege.

That, and...

“It’s beating for you, Bowen,” he said gently, one hand keeping the knight’s palm on his heart, the other coming to caress his face. Draco’s chest tightened as Bowen reached for him as well, stroking the edge of his jaw, and rested his forehead against his chin. The dragon sighed, flooding out the guilt that’s gathered in his gut with fondness. “And when it stops beating, it will only be to keep you safe. Remember that, little one.”

Bowen shivered, inching closer to his partner, and tilted his head up. Draco’s words almost made him crumble and turn into nothing but a desperate puddle. He needed more of that affection. So much more. And he didn’t know how to ask for it, worried that he might be too forward for the dragon’s liking.

“Look at me,” Draco bade.

Bowen obeyed, eyes slithering up the dragon’s jaw and cheekbone as he took a small step back. Those large shiny amber orbs were looking at him so intensely that he could hardly take it.

“I am sure that _you_ can lead people to a better tomorrow. You have it in you, rooted deep within your heart. The justness, the ability to lead, the need and want to do good... And that’s about all you’ll ever need, Bowen. Be their path to decent lives just like Arthur once was.” Draco reached for the sacred sword within the table’s circle and gently picked it up, the blade sliding down his fingers and onto his soft palm. He offered it to the knight, adding: “So I believe that this is rightly yours. May it remind you that you must follow your heart always.”

The knight’s breath hitched. He took the fine blade, eyes running up and down the glinting steel, and embedded it into the sheath attached to his thick leather belt. Bowen didn’t dare to refuse the gift, even though he doubted that he deserved it.

But he’s grown to the point where saying ‘no’ to the dragon was absolutely unacceptable.

He was ready to take anything Draco would offer.

And he was willing to give whatever Draco would want from him.

So if the dragon was asking him to follow his heart, he was more than glad to oblige right away. Leaning his head back further, he took a deep breath, ready to come out with his feelings. He ran his fingers up and down the dragon’s shoulder, never breaking their eye contact.

Bowen took a bold step forward.

And he was stopped by Draco’s palm against his torso.

“You told me to follow my heart,” the knight said softly, confusion clear in his furrowed eyebrows and wrinkled forehead. He was worried that his precious dragon did not want him after all. But he still had to say it. “Draco, I love...”

“I know. And so do I,” he whispered, voice low and thick with emotion.

Draco had to interrupt Bowen because he wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of his words without giving him all of his passion and need. And Avalon wasn’t the right place for it. “But we need to leave first. There’s one more place I want to take you to, little one. Where we can lose reason and give in to each other.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut, be warned. Feel free to skip it if you don't desire to read it.

“Wow,” Bowen sighed as Draco helped him down from his back, walking to the edge of the long cliff above the coast. The sea beneath the edge was dark blue and beautiful, reflecting the light of the stars and the moon, and the wind carried its salty scent up to the knight and the dragon. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, yes,” Draco agreed, slowly making his way to the man’s side, and settled himself down on the soft grass – which was covering the cliff as well as the large, open plain behind their backs. “There’s a lot of beauty in the world. And life is too short. Nobody will ever get to see all of it. It’s a shame, but even the slightest part of it – the chirping of the birds, the rustle of the pines, the sound of waves crashing on stones… It’s…”

“Everything?” the knight tried softly.

“Exactly,” he nodded, bringing his head down to Bowen’s level, and let out a barely noticeable sigh. “But the greatest beauty which can’t ever be destroyed lay in the hearts of people. Their love makes evil and pain tolerable. Sometimes, it even sparks glory in death.”

Draco snorted sorrowfully as he reached for the knight and pulled him close to his chest, never breaking eye contact. He hummed, musing whether he should or shouldn’t tell Bowen that he didn’t have long… That _they_ don’t have long. But in this case, he supposed, it would be better if he kept quiet about it to save Bowen from the helpless misery that he’s been experiencing for far too long. 

“I’ve been thinking that I might not be the right choice for you,” the dragon stated truthfully. “Since, as I told you, I’m afraid that I won’t be a part of your future.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, but… But know – you’re the only right choice for me. I’m certain.” The knight put his hand on the dragon’s cheek as he stood on tiptoes, caressing his face gently. Bowen licked his lower lip, eyes darting upwards to meet his partner’s amber orbs. They were still regretful and sad but the knight could see the pure carnal need and passion in them as well.

Now sure that he was doing what they both wanted and yearned for, Bowen leaned into Draco and closed the distance between their mouths. The dragon’s thumb came to stroke the knight’s temple, but other than that, they were still. The kiss was slow and light – a mere brush of Draco’s warm and surprisingly soft lips against Bowen’s own. It ended suddenly and unexpectedly as the dragon pulled away, sighing, and wrapped his fingers around the man’s small body.

“Are you sure you want this, little one?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” the knight replied, eyes half-closed in delight as he relished in the warmth of his partner’s palm against his back and thighs. He’s been waiting for this moment ever since the dragon returned to him on Avalon… And he wanted to be Draco’s weeks before that. The tension in the air was driving him crazy along with the desire that was flooding his entire being. “You’re thinking too much. Forget the world for a moment, please,” he added after a moment of silence, gulping hard, finally able to say his wish out loud. “And just… Just take me.”

* * *

Bowen gasped into the kiss as Draco drove him backward and roughly smashed him against the lonely tree, his hand protecting the knight from hitting his back against the trunk. His patience was long gone and the little one didn’t seem to mind his fierceness. In fact, the desperate moan, which emitted from his busy mouth as Draco slammed his arm up and pinned it above his head, persuaded the dragon that he was very much enjoying it. 

Bowen was used to discomfort. The life of a wandering knight was a wild one and he’s learned to accept and ignore soreness over time. But he didn’t want to disregard the pain of bark scratching his skin and digging into his forearm, as it made his blood rush south along with the feeling of the dragon’s firm body against his own. 

He practically purred when Draco broke the kiss and huffed, burying his mouth into the crook of the knight’s shoulder where he sucked at the revealed tanned skin. Once the dragon was satisfied with the hickey he left on the man’s collarbone, he ran his tongue up Bowen’s neck and up to his ear. 

“Please,” the knight rasped quietly as the dragon pressed his palm into his groin, forcing the fabric of his pants to rub against his bulge. The man reached for Draco’s hand and guided it to his butt, grunting as the dragon squeezed the plump flesh with vigor. 

That was where Bowen needed him.

“Please, more.” 

He didn’t have to ask twice. 

Draco let go of the knight and grabbed the hem of his black tunic, pulling it over his head and leaving Bowen bare-chested. The dragon kissed him again, while Bowen fumbled with his belt and tossed it aside, undoing the laces of his trousers. He kicked them off quickly, bracing himself against his partner’s shoulder, and pulled off his boots as well. 

Before he was able to get rid of his underwear, he found himself being manhandled by the dragon. Bowen would lie if he said that he didn’t enjoy it – the sheer strength in Draco’s arms could make him squirm. He was small, weak, and frail compared to the bulky dragon and he found it somewhat alluring. 

Draco lay him near the edge of the cliff, into the soft grass, and pecked his chest a few times, eyeing the knight’s face carefully. “Have you done this before?” he asked, the slightest hint of worry in his deep voice. “With a man, I mean?” 

“Nay,” the knight replied coyly, crimson blush settling on his cheeks. Bowen’s heart was pounding from the nervousness, yet he was adamant and excited to continue no matter what. “But I’ve heard a lot about it… Have _you_?” 

“No,” he admitted and inhaled sharply, once again considering whether this was a good idea. 

Draco knew that Bowen wanted to be on the receiving end of things, remembering his previous words. And he was worried if he could fulfill the knight’s needs painlessly and please him at the same time. Sure, he had bedded humans before. But they were all women.

This situation was, pretty much, new to him but… 

_Can’t hurt to try, right?_

“We will need something slick. Do you still have that healing balm?” Draco questioned, reaching for the knight’s satchel, and handed him the bag. 

“Spit won’t do?” 

_My sweet silly human._

“No… Unless you want to walk funny for a month.” 

The knight chuckled and pulled the round silver tin out of the satchel, teasingly looking at the dragon as he took off the lid. “A little overconfident, aren’t we?” 

“Hardly.” 

Draco grinned and kissed him, playfully tugging at the edge of Bowen’s briefs until the knight lost patience. He sat up, stripped the piece of clothing, freeing his already painfully hard manhood, and rocked his hips against the dragon’s chest, seeking relief. But he stopped right away. The scales were rough against the soft skin of his member and he was supposed to do something else anyway. 

He bit the dragon’s lip and pulled away, coating his index and middle finger in the ointment. He looked at his hand suspiciously. 

Bowen was prepared. 

He had to be. 

His entire body was screaming, begging for Draco – and the emptiness within him was unbearable. So the knight inhaled sharply, letting his back fall down to the ground between the dragon’s arms, and spread his legs as wide as he could.

Draco must’ve noticed that he was shaking because he frowned and leaned down to him, saying: “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do this.” 

“I am ready,” Bowen answered calmly and slowly inserted a finger inside of himself, groaning at the intrusion. As strange as it was, the knight didn’t mind the stretch and after a while he pressed another finger in, biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. But when Draco kissed his thigh and bid him to move his fingers to and fro, he obeyed and moaned shamelessly. 

Scissoring and pumping his fingers, the knight coated his clenching walls with the salve until he got used to the feeling and relaxed, muscles no longer straining in discomfort. He looked at the dragon desperately and moved his hand away, whining in need. 

Bowen clawed at his muscled arm, hair splayed in the grass, eyes full of glittering lights and red blush on his cheekbones. So befitting to the knight, a nice contrast to his bright irises. 

He was beautiful, Draco thought. So beautiful and needy for him. And stars have mercy, he couldn’t wait any longer. The dragon purred, eagerly kissing lines down Bowen’s soft neck.

As Draco lay on his side, he gently moved the knight lower and supported himself with his right hand, left one leaning over the man’s small body. He had good leverage like this and he could also watch Bowen’s flushed face. 

The man wrapped his arms around the dragon’s bicep and peeked through the gap between his lover’s chest and elbow, looking down at the large throbbing shaft which was resting between Bowen’s trembling spread thighs. He felt something tingly creep into the pit of his stomach, slowly spreading into his entire body and suffusing his mind. 

It wasn’t fear but excitement. 

Yet Draco’s scaly eyebrows furrowed as he studied the knight’s crimson face and lust-filled eyes. He was befuddled by the fact that Bowen seemed completely happy with his current situation and also absolutely untroubled by Draco’s size. There was not even a _glint_ of worry in those dazzling blue pools. The truth was, he didn’t get that often – not even from experienced dragonesses. It was slightly unnerving and attractive at the same time. 

With a soft grunt, he lined the tip of his achingly hard cock with Bowen’s entrance and once more checked if he was okay. The knight hummed at the warmth of him and, wanting to be closer to his dearest dragon, huskily whispered: “Hold me.” 

Bowen lifted his head and Draco immediately supported it with his left palm, caressing his sweaty face. They did not need to use any words when their eyes locked, both knowing what the other wanted the most. _Union._ Not only of bodies but hearts as well. 

Draco kissed Bowen as he ever so slowly pushed his hips forward in a smooth motion, forcing the knight’s tight warm walls apart. He was moaning and whining beneath the dragon, eyes tightly shut and nose scrunched, but he never asked him to stop nor broke the kiss. Not until Draco bottomed out, groin flush with his trembling thighs and plump buttocks. 

“Ooh, good grief...” he hissed, throwing his head back. 

“Are you alright? S-should I pull out?” the dragon asked through gritted teeth, holding himself back from mindlessly thrusting into the soft heat around him. Bowen was _so_ tight, gripping every ridge of his shaft... And those breathy noises and swears of his were enough to make the dragon groan. 

“Y-you’re s-so... I-it’s _i-intense_. But I can handle it, j-just give me a minute,” Bowen responded shakily, digging his fingers deep into his lover’s scales, and took a couple of deep breaths. Even though the dragon’s ample length was well lubricated, his insides had a hard time adjusting to its girth and the stretch still burned. 

Yet the discomfort was nothing compared to the delightful fullness and knowledge that it was _Draco_ inside of him. 

“I’ve never felt this complete before,” the man continued, voice faint as tears filled his eyes and started sliding down his face. Draco’s right hand came to caress his hair as the salty droplets fell from his lashes. His touch was so loving, so gentle, and kisses soothing against the hot skin of the knight’s flushed neck. 

This was it. 

They were one. 

And they needed more.

“I love you,” the dragon muttered raspily into Bowen’s marked collarbone, slowly rocking his hips back and forth to test the waters. 

Bowen only gasped and pulled him into a long sloppy kiss, breaking it for a couple of seconds only to utter: “I-I love y-you too. P-please, don’t stop! Don’t stop…” 

Within minutes, Bowen turned into a whimpering mess beneath Draco, capable of nothing but moaning and groaning. His eyes always locked on the dragon’s, even when it took all of his strength to keep them open. Insides eagerly tightening and welcoming his lover with each thrust, mind suffused in delight and just the slightest pain. 

“Ah! Y-yes! Right t-there, Draco!” he moaned once the dragon picked up the pace, hitting the spot that made him see stars over and over. As he shifted his hips, the knight felt Draco dive further into him and explore the depths of his body. It was perfect and it was driving him mad.

Bowen never wanted it to end. 

The world was so beautiful like this.

So simple. 

Just him and Draco, drowning in the pleasure and love they held for each other. 

There was no spare space for Einon in his heart and mind. Draco took it all for himself and filled the emptiness within the knight’s soul with his gratifying love. 

Bowen could not even describe how thankful he was, so he just let go of all thoughts and enjoyed the unrelenting rhythm of his lover’s thrusts. The tension that was pooling in his underbelly slowly crept into his fingers and toes, making them curl, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long. 

He had to bite his tongue and clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from keening and moaning even louder. For a while, Draco’s soft sighs and thumps of scales hitting wet skin were the only sounds carried by the wind, until the dragon snorted, finding the knight’s silence unsatisfying. 

Gently, he removed the man’s arm and took it into his palm reassuringly. He cocked his head to mouth at Bowen’s swollen lips, never breaking the pace of his pummeling, and chuckled. 

“Don’t you shy away from me now,” he bade, eagerly peppering the man’s skin with pecks instead of hickeys, voice low and shaky. He forced his eyelids apart to look at Bowen, into his enraptured eyes which were mirroring the same desperation for release as his own. “I want to hear all those sweet sounds of yours, little one.” 

Bowen let out a long high-pitched cry as he arched his back to provide better access to Draco, feeling the throbbing shaft poke and rub every single sensitive spot within him. He reached for a few strands of grass with his free hand and clutched them so hard that his knuckles went pale, noisy moans escaping his mouth with each Draco’s shove.

“A-ah, just... aah... just like t-that… I’m…” Bowen’s voice was weak and breathy as he was drowning in pleasure, incapacitated.

He gulped hard, writhing beneath the dragon, and glanced down at his stomach where his neglected length lay. It was pulsating and jerking, ready to burst, yet he felt no need to touch it, knowing he would reach release soon without doing so. Bowen gazed into the dragon’s eyes as his head slumped back into his large warm palm.

“I-I am so c-close…”

“I know, my love. Let go.”

“Oh! Draco… Draco...” 

He chanted the dragon’s name into the empty midnight until milky clouds of pleasure fogged his mind, twisting it into indecipherable mumbling. His muscles spasmed when the tension in them reached its peak, sending Bowen over the edge of delight. Thick lines of spend painted his belly as his manhood strained and with one final groan, the knight was done. 

As the mist of gratification slowly disappeared and he could see and think clearly again, Bowen realized that his lover’s movements were growing erratic. His jaw was clenched, eyes halfway shut and the knight could see that Draco had a hard time trying to speak. 

And how could he not? 

Bowen’s body was squeezing him hard, eagerly sucking his cock inside to release it of seed and make him crumble. Not to mention that the knight was shaking against his groin and staring right up at him with an eager shimmer in his deep blue eyes. Maybe if it wasn’t for Bowen’s words, Draco could hold on for a moment longer.

“Draco, please… Come… I-Inside”

The dragon growled, lowering his head, and kissed the knight – perhaps too eagerly, too roughly. But he couldn’t help it and his lover did not seem to mind anyway. Once his hips stilled, overwhelming pleasure spread within him and Bowen could feel every throb of Draco’s cock perfectly. The knight groaned at the warmth and amount of seed that was spurting, flowing impossibly deep into his trembling body. 

The world was different, suddenly. 

Changed forever.

And it would never be the same again.

He mouthed “thank you”, even though he knew Draco couldn’t see it, forehead resting against the man’s glistening chest. Bowen gasped and shuddered as he pulled out, leaving him empty and clenching around thin air. He reached for the dragon’s rising face, wanting him close. And Draco understood, kissing his arm and fondly caressing Bowen’s sweaty cheek. 

“You’ve been so good for me, Bowen,” he purred lovingly, short of breath and tired. But he ignored his own weariness and, caring as he always was, took Bowen’s shirt into his hand. “Let me clean you up?” 

“Sure,” the knight nodded, untroubled by the fact that his shirt was going to be ruined in seconds. He’ll buy a new one once they get to the village. It was old and worn anyway, he wasn’t going to miss it. 

Draco ever so gently wiped his face, neck, chest, and stomach, then gave him a concerned look as he lightly brushed the knight’s aching butt and thighs. 

Bowen hissed in pain and, seeing that the dragon frowned, added: “I’m fine, Draco. It’s nothing, really. You... You didn’t hurt me, I just have to get used to the soreness.” 

The dragon was clearly not satisfied with his mollifying, one scaly eyebrow shooting up in disbelief while worry still glittered in his eyes. He reached for the open tin that lay by the knight’s head, dipped the tip of his claw in, and carefully coated Bowen’s entrance. 

“There, that should help a little,” he muttered, lovingly sucked at the man’s lip and lapped into his mouth. Bowen welcomed his action, feeling the stinging in his entrance fade away, and basked in the safety of his lover’s arms as Draco cradled him close to his broad chest. 

The knight traced his fingers against the dragon’s sharp jawline when he noticed that his amber orbs were watery. Bowen was confused and, jolting upwards without thinking, he rested his chin on his lover’s nose to investigate what was going on. As Bowen looked into his sorrowful eyes, he figured that the tears gathered at the edges of his lids weren’t caused by joy.

“I’m always here for you too, you know?” the knight whispered, a small smile playing on his lips. “If there’s something troubling you, do tell me, Draco. I hate seeing you like this – droopy shoulders, gaze as hopeless as if there was no tomorrow… What’s going on? Did…” Bowen gulped. “Did I do something?”

“Oh, little one, of course, you didn’t. And I am sorry that you have to see me in such a miserable state. It’s just that… Well, I’m not sure if I did the right thing. Now,” he put his hands up defensively, seeing that his words startled the knight yet again, “I do not mean that making love to you was a mistake. Not at all, my darling! I love you and I want you. But feeling that way makes me wonder if I’m being selfish.”

Bowen snorted and kissed the dragon, whispering against his mouth: “Please, do not feel that way. I love you too. I want you too. Mutual, see? It’s not you being selfish, Draco. It’s just us being happy.”

“Yes… Happy.”

_But for how long, little one? A couple of days? Weeks? Then you will mourn. And I will be no more. Is it not selfish of me to give you hope when there is none, just to enjoy myself once more before I die?_


	10. Chapter 10

Draco woke up with Bowen tucked safe and warm in his arms. 

He was beautiful. 

And _his_.

The knight was still naked, his right hand resting on his slowly rising chest, the other scratching his tanned shoulder. The one with a dull scar left by Einon’s blade and a dark purple hickey, which was big enough to cause trouble. 

Draco wasn’t thinking when he sucked it into the man’s skin last night, for sure, otherwise, he’d realize that it’d take a lot of effort to cover it properly. It had to be hidden. If not, the knight wouldn’t avoid questions (especially from Kara) and their secret could be revealed. 

Draco knew mankind was never keen on romantic relationships between humans and dragons. If the peasants would learn about their feelings for one another… 

“Mornin’,” Bowen rasped, rubbing small circles into his forehead, and lazily opened his shiny eyes. Even though he was still tired and sore, he smiled widely and reached for the dragon’s face with firm fingers. They were so steady, never trembling, Draco observed as he leaned into Bowen’s waiting palm and heaved a long pleased sigh. 

“Good morning, little one. How are you feeling?”

“Just fine. That balm helped a lot.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to ride?”

“The horse… Or _you_?”

“The horse,” Draco replied with a deep chuckle, the sound rumbling and vibrating in his throat. “Why, do you feel like straddling me?” 

“Maybe,” the knight purred, playfully running his finger up and down the long thin scar on his lover’s nose. “It depends. Sitting on your neck wouldn’t bother me at all, for example.”

“Are you trying to play innocent?” 

“Oh, please! I wouldn’t dream of it. We both know I’m as guilty as they get. And yes, I think I’ll handle horse riding. It won’t be exactly pleasant, but a bit of discomfort is something I can live with.”

“It will be just for a while, anyway. You know, I think we should impress the villagers with our arrival.”

“Show-off,” Bowen giggled and sat up, bringing his other hand to caress his lover’s jaw as he kissed him. Draco hummed in approval and fondly brushed the knight’s messy locks away from his face, enjoying the action to the fullest. 

The knight pulled away as a thought suddenly sprang to his mind. Perhaps a wild, unexpected one, but he wanted to share it with his partner nonetheless. 

“You know, we could just disappear,” he suggested quietly, beaming with excitement, and tried to explain it further when he saw that his words had confused the dragon. “Go somewhere far, only the two of us, and forget about everything. We can forget about Einon…”

“Bowen, you don’t mean that,” Draco interrupted him, befuddled and lost in his words. How could the knight forget the suffering innocents even for a moment? “We cannot let him get away with all the evil he’s been causing. You know that his death is the only option. The people in this country deserve decent lives and once Einon is dead you will all be free, little one. If that’s not enough for you… Then know that I still seek redemption and I want to right my sin, even when it’s late.”

“I’m sorry, Draco.” Bowen heaved a heavy sigh and brushed his face, hand stilling once it settled on his cheek. “I just have a bad feeling about the rebellion, about Einon… I’m being delusional, am I not? Ah. We’ll be fine. And together.” He closed his eyes and smiled, not noticing the dragon’s sad expression and half-closed eyes. “I had this dream, where we were camping in the mountains, alone and free, untroubled by the problems of this world. Safe. We were a couple of years older, living happily, and without problems. I’d love that one day.” 

_Oh, Bowen._

Draco wanted nothing more than to take care of the little one for the rest of his days. Coddle him and spoon, give him all the love he had. Spend long mornings under the sky with Bowen safely tucked beneath his wing after a night full of passion and confessions. He wanted to fly around the world with him, take Bowen close to the stars and moon, show him all the beauty he managed to discover in his lifetime. 

Joy filled him at the thought. 

But it was a fleeting one. 

He’d never get to do all of it.

Why? Oh, why couldn’t he have more time?

“It’s beautiful to imagine and I would love it as well, from the bottom of my heart. But it’s a dream, Bowen. It pains me to say. Do not hold onto it, don’t carry it in your hands or you will suffer,” Draco whispered huskily, perhaps too quietly because the knight leaned closer to hear him. He couldn’t be a part of Bowen’s future, but he didn’t have the heart to reveal that death was waiting for him around the corner, creeping closer with each passing minute. 

“You… Draco, you don’t want to stay with me? Are you planning to leave after the battle’s done? I-is that why you’ve been telling these _things_ to me lately?” Bowen asked demandingly, frightened, and unnerved by the dragon’s unclear words. 

Draco pressed a kiss into his hair, muscles taut with heartbreaking sorrow and guilt that were prickling at his conscience. “No, Bowen. I won’t ever leave you. I am yours and I shall stand at your side for the rest of my life.” 

Bowen took a deep breath and rose to his knees, mouthing at the scales on the dragon’s neck and traveling all the way down to his heart. He had to make sure that they were clear on something. The knight eyed Draco from under fluttering lashes as he guided his large palm to his own chest, stating: “And I will do the same. My heart is forever yours, nobody else will ever own it.”

“Do not make such promises. I adore how loyal you are, but don’t be a fool. There are always casualties when it comes to rebellions and if something goes wrong, then I… I don’t want you to live alone in constant sorrow.”

“Will the casualties be worth it? Will they be worth what the battle brings?”

“Yes. For it will be victory,” the dragon answered firmly, trying to cover the sad lilt in his voice. “It’s already yours, Bowen.”

_Forgive me, little one. Please, forgive me._

_For I will not celebrate it with you when it comes._

“How can you know? We’ve not even persuaded the peasants to fight against Einon yet.”

“Trust me, knight. You will win and rule. And I will give you victory. That’s all I know and all I can promise you besides my love.”

* * *

“Good Lord, I’m getting really nervous! Where are they?” Kara whispered anxiously, rubbing her sweaty palms together, and looked at the quiet, dull village below the sheep pen. The people were either working in the field or sadly mingling in the streets. 

The sun was slowly nearing the horizon, caressing the country with soft, warm light, and her boys – her sweet boys who promised to help her, weren’t with her. She hasn’t seen them for nearly two days and she was starting to get worried. 

What if they just… _left_? 

No.

No, Draco would never leave her high and dry. He’d drag the knight over to the village with him if necessary, she knew.

Gilbert stood by her side, looking doubtful even when he was a man of faith. He didn’t know the dragon and had no idea whether trusting him was a good idea or not. But Kara believed that he would come and bring Bowen with him. So he gave Hewe a pleading stare and, tugging at the sleeve of his worn grey tunic, tried to persuade him again. 

“Listen to the girl, my friend! She has a point, doesn’t she? Fighting Einon is our only choice if we want to live like human beings and not like slaves.”

The bear of a man glanced over his shoulder and looked at the priest with his one good eye, the blind one covered by a black eyepatch. “Now it’s clear. You two have gone completely mad!” he snapped with a bitter sneer, waving his hand in dismissal.

“No, Hewe. You don’t understand!” Kara protested and gently shoved Gilbert out of the way as she followed the peasant through the paddock. His stride was firm and quick, but she managed to keep up with him just fine. 

Hewe pointed at his bad eye, dark memories springing to his mind, and scowled at the redhead. “Your father sang that sour tune once, Kara. We won’t dance to it again! Fighting Einon is hopeless and suicidal, there’s nothing we can do to stop him! If we try, he will crush us. Kill our families, burn our houses, and let his men rape our women. Take the risk and we shall gain nothing, only lose what we have!”

“Please, Hewe, listen to me. Just give me a minute of your time! Please, my words will be worth your while,” she implored, demanding his attention by stomping on his foot. As he scowled at her, Kara put a hand on his stiff shoulder. “This time the rebellion will be different because we’re joined by…”

“No! It won’t be any different!” Hewe grabbed a large shovel from the ground, clutched it firmly in his dirty fingers, and swung it towards Kara as a threat. “I’ve had enough of your jabbering and stupid remarks! Now get the hell out of here before I-”

Suddenly, a loud swoosh interrupted Hewe who jerked in surprise. Kara blinked a few times and leaned closer to the shovel, examining the arrow that found its target in the middle of the blade. It was still vibrating when the peasant reached for the arrow and pulled it out. 

She knew that arrow.

She recognized the fletching made of appealingly colorful starling feathers.

Kara sighed in joy when she saw Bowen, galloping down the hill on his dark bay steed. He tugged at the reins in front of the fence and stopped his horse, giving the redhead a mischievous smile. The smirk faded away from his face as he spoke, voice serious and firm: “Save your strength for the fight against Einon. It will have a better use.” 

“There is no fight against Einon,” Hewe scoffed.

“I’m going to start one.” 

“You and what army, knight?”

Bowen grinned even wider as he saw curious people coming forth to take a better look at what was going on. _Splendid,_ he thought, _the bigger the audience, the greater the effect._

He spun his horse around and spurred it up the slope, yelling: “He will enlist!”

Hewe’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and the other villagers seemed just as befuddled. Their jaws dropped and eyes widened as the knight’s steed reared on the top of the hill. Even Kara watched with slightly parted lips as Draco’s silhouette covered the sun, its golden haze surrounding the edges of his elegant wings.

“Well, Hewe,” she giggled quietly, turning to the stunned man, as Draco gracefully landed in front of the gathered peasants and Bowen followed him, “what do you think about fighting Einon now?”

The one-eyed man ignored her question and carefully stepped closer to the dragon, but only enough to keep a respectful distance. His mouth was opening and closing as he was thinking about what to say. The knight grinned, dismounting his horse with a quiet chuckle, and walked over to the bewildered peasant. 

“There _is_ fight against Einon, Hewe. I didn’t believe it for twelve years. Not until hope found me and crept its way into my heart, swallowing it whole. Come now,” Bowen beckoned, raising his arm towards the magnificent dragon who sat proudly and silently in front of the villagers, “meet Draco. Meet our hope.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Bowen? Bowen!” Kara yelled and threw a wet rag at the sleeping man’s relaxed face, making him jerk awake on the creaky cot. “Wake up you lazy sod! The sun is up.”

“Jesus!” he groaned hoarsely, clutching the old soggy fabric in his hand, and opened his eyes, lids heavier than usually. Bowen had a hard time falling asleep the last couple of days, undoubtedly owing to a lack of the dragon’s comforting proximity. He glared at the smirking redhead and pouted. “What’s wrong with you, woman? That’s not how you say good morning!”

She giggled, covering her face as her dark orbs examined every inch of the knight’s body, and muttered: “I hope I didn’t disturb you while you were having an _interesting_ dream.”

The tone she used to emphasize the word ‘interesting’ was more than strange. Bowen crunched his nose in pure confusion and cocked his head to take a look at what was wrong with him. His eyebrows rose in horror as he saw the obvious bulge between his legs, straining his black pants to their limit.

He gulped and licked his dry lips, remembering the fantasy that’s made him so excited while he was slumbering. In all honesty, it wasn’t completely a fantasy but a memory of the last time he and Draco hooked up in the forest. 

Bowen was a sucker for the dragon. He longed for his every touch and kiss, for Draco’s attention and affection.

“Should I leave, so that you can take care of it? Or…” Kara’s voice brought him back to reality. The girl slowly made her way towards him, hips swaying as she walked, and gently took a hold of his palm. Bowen frowned and even gasped as she straddled him suddenly, legs wrapping about his waist. “Maybe I can help you with your problem.” 

This wasn’t like her at all. Kara always struck him as a woman who never seeks company just to scratch an itch. Besides, she was a virtuous woman. Why would she seek carnal release with him, if she didn’t… She leaned to press her soft plump lips against his own, body hot and pliant on top of him. The kiss was filled with love, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. 

But no matter how cunning and pretty Kara was, Bowen wholeheartedly belonged to Draco. 

“Lass,” he whispered, taking a firm hold of her small shoulders to ensure she wouldn’t kiss him again. “You’re a good, beautiful girl and I’m sure that one day you shall find a man who will give all he has to you. But it’s not going to be me.”

Bowen gently pushed the girl away and she sat next to him on the cot, legs crossed and eyes wide with confusion. “I… I… Ah, sorry, Bowen,” she whispered with a quiet sob as the knight brushed her face with his warm knuckles. “I should have talked to you first.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, lass. You’ve done nothing wrong,” he said kindly, a soft, reassuring smile on his lips. Bowen appreciated her fondness and love, but he couldn’t give her more than his friendship. “I cannot give you what you’re looking for and you deserve to know why. It’s because I’m in love with someone.”

“But, Bowen…” she started, frowning in befuddlement as truth downed on her, but then decided to keep her thought to herself. 

With a short snort, she looked up at the knight, musing: _You said that you had been traveling alone for twelve years before you’ve met Draco. And you never mentioned that you were in a relationship…_ She hummed, rubbed at her elbow, and glanced over her shoulder, seeking the dragon. 

Perhaps she should ask Draco and figure out whether Bowen told her the truth or not.

* * *

“Did… Did Bowen ever talk about his love life with you?”

The dragon coughed, almost choking on his drink. Much to the girl’s surprise, she found him sipping ale from a wooden barrel. He had been watching the knight and the peasants from the bank of the shallow creek, which was running around the village, after he had returned from the hunt. Before she sat by his side and started asking questions, that was. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said…”

“No, I’ve heard well. I just don’t understand why you’re asking me this. Why should it concern you, lass?”

“Well, I like him,” she admitted coyly, rubbing the hem of her tunic between the smooth pads of her fingers. “I tried to tempt him, I kissed him. He shoved me away and said that he’s in love with someone. But I’ve never seen him with a gal. Do… Do you think he lied to me, thinking he wouldn’t hurt my feelings so much?” 

Draco hummed and squinted, searching for Bowen in the mass of mingling peasants. It was a low, steady hum – Kara couldn’t tell whether it was a worried one or not. She leaned forward, trying to spy the dragon’s feelings from his glittery eyes. 

But he must’ve noticed her eager gaze and turned his head away from the hill. “Bowen does not lie. Or at least, he has never lied to me. I believe that if he told you that he has someone, then it’s true,” the dragon responded solemnly, stretching his large wings as he stood up and took a step towards the field. 

“You’re a good young girl, Kara. You deserve all the happiness and roses of this world after what you’ve been through. Sooner or later, some fair boy will notice and you will be happy with him… Me and Bowen, we are mere shadows – fractions of who we were once upon a time. And we’re broken.”

“Thank you, Draco. Bowen seemed so lively these last few weeks,” she murmured with a soft smile, “I thought that maybe… Maybe I could cure him. But, well, it appears that someone else is doing so. And they are doing it well.”

“I’m sure that you can and will make him better when the time comes. But sometimes, broken ones fit well together and heal each other because they know what it feels like to have a shattered soul. Now please, excuse me, sweetheart. I need to talk to Bowen.” 

“Sure, honey.”

* * * 

“There. That’s better,” Bowen muttered, patting the young boy’s trembling shoulder, and brushed a few strands of black hair away from his face. The wind was pretty strong and Cale was shaking due to its cool touch, reddened hand unsteadily holding the grip of the bow. “Now, take a long, deep breath and focus. It’s going to be hard to aim well since the breeze is pretty strong. Strain the string and let the arrow go on empty lungs.” 

Cale did as he was told, slightly shifting the bow to the right, and released the arrow. Its sharp tip burrowed into the target, just a few inches away from the middle. The boy grinned, gasped in joy, and swiftly turned his head at the deep chuckle that came from the back. 

Bowen patted his back and spun on the heel of his boot, eyes landing on the slowly approaching dragon. His heart immediately pitter-pattered and heat started to pool in his underbelly when Draco smiled at him. 

“Well done, kid. Even though you’ve missed the center, the arrow would certainly pierce your opponent’s heart,” the dragon praised the young boy as he slowly made his way to Bowen’s side and lay down. The knight gently brushed his arm, appreciating his presence after the long three days which Draco spent on guard duty. 

Cale took great pride in the dragon’s words and, puffing his chest out, grinned widely. “I hope I will be able to aim as well in the battle! Bowen said we should attack Einon’s fort after tomorrow, so I have one more day to-” 

“Boy. You will not fight.” 

“What?” the boy cried, confused by the change in Draco’s tone. His voice was no longer quiet and soft, but firm and demanding. “B-but I have to help! I want to be brave! Just like you and Bowen…”

“You know, sometimes, being brave means to endure,” the knight stepped in, hoping he could convince Cale that he can prove his courage in a less dangerous way. “Besides, you truly shouldn’t go to war yet, you’re only fourteen.”

“My father fought when he was thirteen!” 

“Listen well, child. Once you kill, there is no way back. You’re going to have blood on your hands for the rest of your life and nothing will ever wash it off. It will haunt you, pollute you and never leave, like a dark, gloomy shadow. Save yourself from it for as long as you can. There is no glory in killing, trust me. I would know – I’ve taken many lives of men and dragons for various reasons.”

“How many did you kill?” Cale asked humbly, playing with the string on his bow, and shyly looked up from the grassy ground. 

Draco let out a sad chuckle. 

“I never counted them. But if their spirits follow me around and we’d be able to see them, this valley would be pretty crowded and hostile, I reckon.”

“Cale, go fetch the arrow,” the knight beckoned the boy, pointing at the target tied to a small ash, and waved him off to leave a clear message. He wanted just a minute of alone time with his partner if he couldn’t get more. “You should shoot some more. If you’ll hit the target again, I shall name you the guard of the village and you will watch over it while we’ll be gone. Okay?”

“So, I will guard the village and protect it from the attackers? Great!” Cale jabbered excitedly, flailing his arms around as he headed to the target with a happy strut. He was too eager for nothing and, after the battle, Bowen would have a hard time explaining why no enemies turned up at the village. 

“After tomorrow, then?” 

Draco’s quiet question pulled Bowen out of his thoughts. He glanced up at the dragon, slithering his hand up his strong shoulder, and leaned into him, desperate for touch. 

“Yes,” he nodded, beard rubbing and scratching his lover’s scales as Bowen spoke with mouth buried against his neck. “The people are prepared and the traps in the forest are ready. I see no profit in waiting any longer. I… I already informed Hewe, but if you think the people should train for at least a few days longer, then I will countermand my order.” 

Draco was tempted to do so – to evade dying and breaking Bowen’s heart for a couple of days. But he knew that it would solve nothing. He had to take responsibility for what he’s done and face death. 

Further avoidance… would be cowardice.

“No, Bowen. I think you made the right call. There will be enough time for the last necessary preparations.”

He didn’t even notice that the knight’s hand settled on his heart until Bowen panted in surprise. It was warm and soft, gently tickling his flesh. But the knight did not seem nearly as gratified as Draco. His eyes were worried as they found their way to the dragon’s own. 

“Draco, your heart is beating exceedingly fast.”

“Don’t worry about that, dear one,” the dragon tried to mollify him and gently kissed Bowen’s neck, carefully watching the boy in the distance. Much to his delight, the kid was trying to pull the stuck arrow out of the target and paid no attention to them. Quickly, he pressed his mouth to the man’s ear, purring: “It’s because I want you.” 

That was entirely true.

He wanted to feel Bowen once more.

For the last time.

“When and where?” the knight asked as he lightly bit into his lower lip, a glint of mischief shining in his blue orbs. 

“After sunset by the lake.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more spice here. ;)

“That’s a pretty big bite you left on my shoulder,” Bowen remarked quietly with a delighted glint in his bright blue eyes, examining the regular wounds on his back. He didn’t mind their stinging nor the trickling droplets of blood. After a few days, they’d turn into prominent scars – a mark that would never go away.

A reminder.

“I’m a pretty big dragon.” Draco hummed into the crook of his neck, tongue sliding to soothe the pain left by his sharp teeth. He looked at the knight apologetically, amber orbs frantically running up and down Bowen’s flushed, sweaty face. 

The man leaned into his touch, head resting against the scales of the dragon’s nose as he glanced up at his lover. It took a lot of effort to talk Draco into biting him. Bowen had to implore him multiple times while they were making love before his partner finally gave in, fulfilling his wish. 

“I… I hope you don’t feel guilty. Because there’s nothing you should be sorry for,” the knight said firmly, hoping to reassure him, and sunk deeper into the lake. Its cold water felt heavenly against his heated skin and irritated red thighs. 

Draco wordlessly nuzzled the knight’s temple and faced him, no longer supporting Bowen’s body with his chest. He captured the man’s soft lips with his own and passionately licked into the warmth of his mouth, running the tips of his claws up Bowen’s arm. 

The knight gasped at his touch and moaned into the kiss, eagerly digging his calloused fingers into Draco’s muscles. Even though it’s been mere minutes since Bowen came, his manhood twitched and hardened in interest. He pulled away with a soft groan and muttered against the dragon’s mouth: “How about a second round?” 

“A second round?” Draco chuckled in amazement. The knight’s never asked for more before, usually too exhausted and worn to do as much as cuddle after they indulged their passion. “I must admit, you are truly astonishing me with your ardor tonight, but… Bowen, you need to be strong and well-rested tomorrow. You will have a lot on your shoulders – the people need to learn how to cooperate during the battle, you have to show them every trap and teach them how to use it. I cannot ruin you. That bite alone is too much trouble already.” 

The dragon’s concerned tone made Bowen smile. With trembling hands, he reached out for Draco and sighed in pleasure as his partner enveloped him in his arms, gently pulling him out of the water. Once he was settled on the grass near the lake’s shore, Draco started pampering him with gentle strokes and pecks, never letting his eyes off the panting man as he kissed every inch of his belly and chest. 

“You’re too good to me, love,” Bowen whispered, lightly brushing the dragon’s lower lip with his thumb and tracing it down to the edge of his chin. He stared into the uncanny depths of Draco’s gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes, realizing that he’d never see such fierce love in anyone else’s. 

For a split second, the knight saw flames burning in those golden pools and it left him breathless. 

“You are coddling me,” he continued after gathering his wits. “Perhaps more than is needed. Don’t get me wrong, now – I’ve never experienced anything better than your care and fondness, Draco. But you needn’t worry about hurting me. I won’t shatter and break like ice.” 

“I know. But I desire not to cause you any pain or discomfort and I am more than concerned about your well-being.” 

“Forgive me if I pushed you too much.”

“You did not. Not at all, little one.” 

Draco’s eyes were honest as he spoke, quietly and serenely. He looked divine like this, Bowen thought. Silver moon enlightened the edges of the dragon’s bulky form in the dark of the night, making them glitter, and there was also no sorrow in his face. The knight’s never seen him so peaceful before. 

“You seem somehow better this evening,” the man commented quietly, grinding himself against his lover’s arm, and bit his lip when he felt Draco’s tail slithering up his leg.

“I decided that I would not spend today drowning in sadness when I can give my time to you.”

“So you don’t regret biting me, then?” 

“Do you, Bowen?”

“No.”

“Then I have no reason to regret it either.”

Bowen smirked. “I like this change of attitude. It’s nice to know tha- Oh!” He gasped in surprise as the dragon bent him in half, knees almost touching his shoulders and behind facing the sky. Draco leaned in and peppered the underside of his thighs with kisses, licking the knight’s soft skin all the way up to his fleshy cheeks. 

He was in no hurry. 

The lazy drags of his warm, wet tongue were driving the man crazy. Not to mention the seductive bedroom eyes Draco’s been giving him. “G-good dear… You are hot,” he muttered, short of breath, and heard his partner chuckle. Passion was bubbling within the pit of his belly, spreading into every inch of him in strong continuous waves. 

Draco retracted the sharp blades on his tail, burying them beneath his glittery copper scales, and gently moved it to prod at the knight’s entrance. For a split second, he slid the tip inside, making Bowen squirm and writhe in dissatisfaction. 

He smirked and let out a pleased hum. The human was still loose and slick – thanks to the generous amount of grease Draco’s used to prepare him for the first round. “Ready, Bowen?” the dragon asked as he stood up and took a few steps forward, making sure to line up the head of his throbbing shaft with Bowen’s clenching hole in the process. 

“Yes.” 

* * * 

Bowen’s moans and whimpers were piercing the silence of the black night as Draco relentlessly hammered his hips into the knight. He already came, spurting his load all over his own stomach and chest. But his partner seemed to have problems with getting off, still thrusting in and out of him. It wasn’t the only unusual aspect of their second round – the dragon was strangely quiet, only huffing short breaths into the air. He never said a word. 

Now, Draco wasn’t very talkative when it came to sex, but other times he often uttered a few sentences and praises while they were making love. Bowen started to notice it immediately after the overwhelming pleasure of release faded away from his body and it was unnerving him greatly. Brushing a few lost strands of hair from his sweaty face, he glanced over his shoulder and then between his lover’s strong forearms. 

“Draco…?” he tried, short of breath. 

The dragon lowered his head and turned to face Bowen with an apologetic expression. “Forgive me, little one, that I’m taking too long to finish. I should probably stop now – I must be wearing you out greatly,” Draco said with a sad tone and stilled, no longer moving within the knight’s walls. 

He was genuinely surprised when his partner groaned unhappily, head slumping into the grass. “I am fine now, but I will be too weary to handle you in a couple of minutes,” Bowen remarked. “Are _you_ okay though, big guy?”

“Yes. I just…” The dragon hummed. When Bowen’s mesmerizingly blue half-closed eyes met his, the tightness in his muscles intensified and made him realize what he was missing. “I think it’s this position. Will you mind if I change it?” 

“Go for it.”

Once Draco rolled onto his back, the knight ended up sprawled on the soft scales of his abdomen. He took a hold of Bowen’s legs and gently, carefully spread them wider to ensure he’d have good access. Then one of his hands traveled up the man’s sweaty, glistening body and cradled his stubbled cheek. 

Bowen tilted his head to look at Draco, orbs still filled with lust and need. His lover’s cock twitched within him at that and the knight couldn’t help but grin. “This is what you’ve needed, huh? To see my eyes?” he asked softly and the dragon nodded. “That’s sweet. A-ah!”

The knight gasped and let his head slump against his lover’s solid chest as Draco slowly moved his hips upwards, hitting his sweet spot. Once he was fully seated inside of Bowen’s tight body again he took a deep breath and started thrusting. The man intentionally squeezed his pulsating shaft – Draco could tell by the hungry, desperate glint in his gorgeous blue irises. 

It was an encouragement. 

So he picked up the pace and savored the soft moans, which were emitting from his lover’s slightly parted lips. Oh, those breathy cries and slaps of two meeting bodies were like music to his ears. Bowen cried out on top of him, raveling in the rocking of his hips, and arched his back. 

Even in the haze of pleasure, he kept his head tilted backward and eyes open for Draco. His trembling limbs went taut as his member jerked, spurting streaks of spend all over his underbelly and chest. Bowen couldn’t believe that he came thrice (almost in a row) and laughed in amazement. 

Draco didn’t have the time to ask what was so funny. The knight’s insides clenched him hard, enveloping his cock like a glove. So wet and soft… Perfect. 

His wings came to brush Bowen’s shivering thighs, while he gently caressed his messy yellow hair. Draco only managed to growl before strong waves of long craved release washed all over his body. As he filled Bowen with his warm seed, he bent his neck and rested his chin on the knight’s shoulder. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” the dragon reiterated, mouth pressed to Bowen’s ear. The last few thrusts were erratic and weak. Mere remains of his lover’s vigor. But he relished in them nonetheless and groaned when Draco pulled out, letting the spend flow out of his overused hole. 

“Love you t-too, big guy,” he said breathlessly and smirked as Draco moved him to the top of his rising chest. Bowen reached out to rest his palm on the dragon’s nose, basking in the heat of his exhales. “I think I owe you one.” 

“Get me a beer and we will be even.” Draco purred and pulled the man closer to his face. He kissed him fiercely and Bowen eagerly complied, tongue passionately flickering against his own. “Or maybe wine, if you don’t mind the price,” he added after their mouths parted. 

“I’m afraid the only wine you can get around these parts is hidden in Einon’s cellar. But I think Hewe has some beer… So you can have it tomorrow at the party.”

Draco frowned in confusion.

“Party? What party, Bowen?” 

“Oh, right!” the knight rubbed his forehead, marveling that he had forgotten to inform his partner about the upcoming event once again. “After you left me and Cale, Kara strutted over to me with her hands on her hips – you know how _scary_ she is when she does that. She told me that we should have a party on the eve of the battle. And, well, I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no.” 

“So be it. A party. I might do a bit of hunting then.” 

“Not necessarily. There’s a couple of reliable hunters in the village.” 

One of the dragon’s scaly eyebrows shot up as he pouted. “Sure. And they will return with one deer, determined to feed three hundred people with it. Don’t try to persuade me that they can do as well as me just to relieve me of work. I will gladly provide game for the people.” 

Bowen gave him a warm smile and sat up, straddling his broad neck. His eyes were fluttering under the weight of weariness as he kissed lines up the dragon’s jaw. Draco rubbed his back thankfully, enjoying the soft touches of the knight’s wandering hands. 

“We should go to sleep now, my love,” he remarked quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. The dragon’s pupils suddenly widened. Draco pushed the man’s legs apart gently, inspecting the puddle of spend on his chest. “But we’ll have to clean ourselves up first.”


	13. Chapter 13

Bowen slowly sipped his beverage and hummed. He was seated at the head of the large table, watching people drink and feast on the many different types of meat, vegetables, and stews. The whole village was blazing with light of the many torches and vibrating with unending noise. People were talking, singing, and some even snoring due to unhealthy consumption of alcohol. 

They were paying no attention to him – not even Kara (she was busy talking to Hewe’s three daughters on a house porch). So he sneaked his left hand down from the table and let it fall onto Draco’s palm, which lay beside him on the bench, practically offering itself to him. 

The dragon smiled down at him, rubbing the back of his arm with his forefinger. Holding hands was the only physical thing they could do to express affection to one another in a crowded area without gaining too much unwanted attention. 

“Hey,” Bowen whispered and pointed at the lonely barrel by the table’s side, “you remember that one is yours, right?”

Draco chuckled and reached for the casket, undoing the lid with one swipe of his claw, and brought it to his mouth to taste the beer. He licked the foam from his upper lip and purred. “Tastes just as good as I remember. Hewe offered me some mead yesterday and it’s… Well, too sweet. I like bitterness better. Only when it comes to flavor, that is. The northern clan I lived with for a couple of decades used to brew the finest beer, I guess that’s where my preferences are rooted.”

“Interesting,” the knight remarked, voice full of boyish enthusiasm, and leaned closer to the dragon. “I’ve been wondering, how come you and Aislinn know each other? She seemed very confident when she spoke to you all those years ago. She knew that you were too kind to refuse saving an innocent child.”

“Or she just knew that she could offer me the great deed I so longed for… But yes, Aislinn does… _Did_ know me well. Her father, Athelstun, was my friend. He always sought dragon wisdom when he was at the crossroads. She’s just like him, you know? Stoic and untouched by age. But Athelstun, he was never strong like her. Aislinn went through things neither of us will ever understand and still stood tall. What a woman.”

“But, Draco, do you not feel like she used you? Now, I’m not trying to say that she’s a bad person, I’ve always admired her and gladly served her, but… She’s a mystery to me. When I taught Einon, I didn’t see through her commands, most of the time.”

“Do you think someone could _use_ me, Bowen?”

The knight looked into Draco’s eyes, into those yellow pools of uncanny power, and shook his head rapidly. He was truly silly if he’d thought that a human could play the dragon like a fiddle. “No,” he responded firmly as his eyes fell upon the grassy ground in shame. 

“Then you’ve got your answer.” Draco tilted his chin upwards with the tip of his tail, making Bowen face him. “Do not try to blame her for my decisions. Only I am responsible for what I had done twelve years ago in the mountain above the ancient Roman ruins. I played a hero once and… Here we are.”

“You did not play a hero, Draco. You are one. Whether you believe it or not. And Einon betrayed us all. It wasn’t naivety or selfishness that made you give half your heart to him. It was your kindness. There’s no denying it,” Bowen stated, caressing the dragon’s shoulder to assure him, and chugged the beverage in his tankard at once. 

* * *

“Impossible, Kara!” Rose, one of Hewe’s triplets, laughed as they were making their way towards the empty center of the village. It was late – well past midnight – and most of the people were sleeping in their warm cots. “I haven’t seen him with a lady ever since he came here. He sticks with Draco all the time. They both must’ve lied to you!”

“I doubt that.”

“Oh, please. They are sweethearts, right? Maybe they just didn’t want you to feel bad about the refusal. It would befit them, wouldn’t it? Besides…” Rose has suddenly gone quiet and put a finger to Kara’s lips. The redhead scowled at her, prepared to shove her hand away and speak her mind, but the younger lass wouldn’t let her. “Prick up your ears. Do you hear that?”

Kara did as she was told, no longer angry but interested. She focused on the night’s soft sounds and managed to pick up the soothing thrilling which tore Rose out of her thoughts. The song was slow. Undoubtedly a lullaby. The singer’s voice was floating on gentle notes and sometimes dropped _so_ low that Kara’s heart skipped a beat. 

Rose saw the amazement on her face and asked: “Whose voice is that? He has a beautiful baritone and a godly bass! Brother Gilbert taught me everything about music, so I can tell!”

“Draco’s.”

“What?!” the dark-haired maiden shrieked in surprise, thick eyebrows shooting into the middle of her forehead. “I didn’t know he could sing so well!”

“You don’t know much about him. Not that I’m aware of every trait he has, mind you,” Kara replied and crossed her arms on her chest. “I think you should go to bed, Rose. Your father must be worried about you by now.” She waved her away before the younger woman could protest and rushed away.

* * *

“Nice song.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Kara’s eyes fell between the dragon’s arms where Bowen lay, calmly dozing leaned against his chest. One of the knight’s hands was tucked beneath the scale on his heart – on the only vulnerable place on his armored body. Draco was looking down on the sleeping man with half-closed eyes, which were full of love and… Tears. 

And right then, Kara realized that she’s been blind.

There was no secret lady fair. No innocent maiden that Bowen fell in love with.

Just Draco.

His best friend. His hope. His savior.

“Kara,” the dragon called her quietly, obviously worried that a louder conversation could wake Bowen up. “You seem a bit lost, dear. Is everything okay? Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, still too astonished to talk. At first, Kara noted that they were, indeed, not lying to her at all. Then she took a deep breath and tried to figure out how her knight fell in love with her dragon. And afterward, she remembered what Draco had told her last night when she asked him about Bowen’s love life. 

_Me and Bowen, we are mere shadows – fractions of who we were once upon a time. And we’re broken._

_But sometimes, broken ones fit well together and heal each other because they know what it feels like to have a shattered soul._

All of a sudden, Kara understood what he meant. 

Draco gently touched her temple with his wing and cocked his head, once more breaking the flow of her thoughts. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yes. I just… Came to wish you goodnight and ask for another lullaby,” she whispered back, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Your voice is so calming and I can’t fall asleep.”

* * *

“Are you nervous?” Draco asked as he sat down by the knight’s side to rest for a moment. 

“Yes,” Bowen admitted, nodding his head, and glanced over his shoulder at the army of determined peasants. They were training even now, mere minutes before the battle. His people surely didn’t lack the passion to win and he hoped they could make up for their skills with it. 

They seemed fearless – faces firm and full of hope even though some of them were about to face death. He was sure their courage was rooted in the dragon’s proximity, not his. And he couldn’t blame them at all. 

The knight stretched his arms towards Draco, palms facing the sky, and watched his fingers tremble. “I am _quite_ nervous as you can see. My heart is pounding like crazy. My palms are sweaty...” 

Draco smiled at him from above and gently took his palms into his hand. Bowen stared into his deep amber orbs in search of comfort and it was granted to him immediately. Behind the fire in the dragon’s eyes, he saw breathtaking encouragement and love. 

“I already told you that you will have victory. There... Shall be casualties along the way, there is no doubt. But losing those we love is a natural part of life, even though it’s painful and sad. Whatever happens, I want you to carry on with leading people. I know you won’t shatter. You are strong, little one. You will make this world a better place.” 

Draco’s reassuring words made the man’s heart flutter in affection and he longed to kiss him. He couldn’t however. The forest was full of people and he would have to guide them to Einon’s castle soon. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I will do my best to make you proud of me, Draco.” 

“I _am_ proud of you,” the dragon stated, running his thumb down Bowen’s forearm. His eyes caught the old worn fabric wrapped about the knight’s wrist. Draco gave him a curious expression, asking: “Where did this come from?” 

“It’s a gift from Kara – a lucky charm, she called it. Her father used to wear it as a headband during rebellions and she wanted me to take it,” the knight replied and watched his partner walk to a nearby tree with confusion. “Draco, what are you...?” 

The dragon returned back to him, holding a small stem crowned with tiny blue flowers – each one had a distinctive yellow ring in the center. He slid the stem underneath the brown band on Bowen’s hand without crushing or creasing a single petal, despite how strong and big he was. If Bowen didn’t know Draco, he’d never believe he could be so careful and gentle with something as fragile as a flower. 

“Here. Your second lucky charm.” 

_They are forget-me-nots,_ Bowen mused, a wide smile across his face. 

“I love you,” he said with certainty, fingertips grazing the soft petals, and placed his hand over Draco’s own. 

“I love you too, Bowen.” The dragon leaned down and nuzzled the man’s neck, one hand coming to touch Bowen’s chest. He pressed a quick, discreet kiss into his skin and pulled away with a loud sigh. “I will go and take a look at the castle now. Lead your people to the tree line, gain Einon’s attention, and let me... Let me do the rest _my way_. If you will have need of me, find me in the thick of the fray. But do not linger.” 

Draco befuddled him with his words once more, but before he could ask any questions, his lips settled in his fair hair. “Watch over your people. Always remember who you are. And know, that no matter what happens...” Draco pressed his palm deeper into the knight’s chest. “...I will be here forever.” 

Bowen stretched his arm up as the dragon flapped his wings and slowly ascended above the trees. A bad feeling settled in the man’s gut and he felt like he had to express his concern and affection once more. “Be careful. You’re all I have,” he mouthed. 

“I will be. I love you,” Draco muttered back, voice thick with emotion and eyes watery. Sorrow and guilt filled his heart once more as he looked at Bowen for the last time and disappeared in the sky. 

He was ready to atone for his sin.

And face his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Please, do comment and let me know what you think of the story. :)


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